You don't know what you have until
by Trice
Summary: Part 32 up! EO is exposed, Max has to leave town. Can they defeat all odds and fall in love again before everything falls apart? ML if they survive my writing. Lately I've been wondering If I can survive it. Hope I haven't killed my readers either.
1. You did a good thing, Max

**_AN: They don't belong to me - that should be clear by now, but I love them all, so what can I do? I'll return them in the morning, unless Logan Cale, „protector of all that is good and true", advocates larceny and lets me keep the whole shebang or, who knows, even calls the store and has „them" charge everything to him._**

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**_I love all feedback, even flames, so feel free to express yourselves. If for some incredible reason you want to archive this, please ask first: bigparola@yahoo.com_**

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**_Well, I had several parts of this already written out and after reading the transcript of „Exposure" I finally got myself down to put a beginning and an ending to the angst fest._**

**_I felt Max had hurt Logan too much already and she really needed a wake up call. This is it. They need to fall in love again, don't you think so ? But it is really dark._**

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**_This part is just the prologue, setting things in space and time (after Exposure). Actually it is pure angst. Disaster strikes a chapter later. Until then, angst away:_**

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YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE UNTIL...

**Part One**

**„You did a good thing, Max"**

**It had been two weeks since she had last seen him. Two weeks since her fateful words: „I can't". A lot had happened since. Things that had turned her little world upside down even more than it already was. Things she would have normally shared with him. But nope, she hadn't seen him in two weeks.**

**Had they ever been apart for so long ? Had they ever stayed away from each other  for 2 weeks ? Well, there was her Manticore „sojourn". That didn't really count. It had been hell for both of them. But before that and even afterwards, regardless of the virus, when they had a fall out, they never *could* stay apart for long. Two endless weeks.**

**Actually she hadn't even had the time to think about it until now. It was for the first time in 2 weeks that she returned to the Space Needle. Yes, she missed Logan, but Joshua's loss had hit her hard, too, finally waking her up from the dream of normalcy. It could have been Logan instead of Annie. What had he said when they had first met: „the universe is right on schedule". If they hadn't broken up after Logan's last brush with the virus it would have certainly happened after Annie's death. Any which way she looked at things, it had been for the best.**

**The last few days hadn't allowed her much respite or time to brood anyway. More and more transgenics were hunted down, accused of crimes they hadn't committed and she felt responsible - for all of them. Alec was the only one she could count on now, the only one, who, like her, could go out undetected while the crazed inhabitants of the city reacted to the „threat" of the unknown. If she had to be truthful she didn't resent Alec so much anymore. He had grown on her in an endearing way. And yet somehow he was the same unreliable, immature prick she had always believed him to be. Except that now she considered him family, too, along with Joshua. Pathetic threesome that they were, they still had each other. The corners of her mouth went up a few barely visible millimeters. Lucky they had hooked up.**

**Then why the fuck was she feeling so alone against the world ? She had Alec to help her with rescue missions, Joshua to talk to and cuddle with and even Original Cindy for girly stuff. While she had been crashing mostly at Joshua's - to help him get over his loss, she said to herself - the truth was that she couldn't look Original Cindy in the eyes anymore. Her homegirl had made it clear what she thought of breaking up in times of need. Sure, since then she had been very supportive and understanding. She hadn't even uttered one word about Logan. It didn't matter though, when looking at the feisty girl, Max always imagined her blaming every moment of sorrow on the own fucked up feelings: „If you're feeling miserable, it's your own fault, boo. Gotta stick together when hard times hit." And by that she wouldn't exactly mean herself.**

**This train if thought didn't help Max at all. She felt desolate like never before. Was that how Zack had felt ? Left alone in a hostile world to care for his siblings, alone, since he considered Max, his second in command, unreliable and too dangerous to even give her the contact number ? Had he ever felt so burdened by his self imposed responsibility ?  No wonder he was always so grumpy and moody and didn't let himself come too close.**

** Max crumpled on the cold metal surface, drawing her knees to her chin. She missed Zack, too. Now she finally understood. Who would have thought ? She not only understood, she also approved of his opinion.  Well, at least partly. Love might not be phony sentimentality but it certainly was a weakness she could not afford.**

Damn him for being right ! Damn him for leaving her alone in the world, alone with the oppressive weight of responsibility, with the knowledge that she could not belong. Her dreams of a normal life had been blown away. The illusion of a normal life had vanished. The only thing she still felt in midst of the numbness was her shattered heart. A shudder went through her at the thought. Not even that, it belonged to Zack after all. Guilt, emptiness and darkness. Forever hers.

**She slowly descended off the Space Needle and pretended not to hear the faint voice in her head whispering: „Forever dark. Somebody's angel". She pretended not to draw unexpected comfort from the words spoken long ago and the warm sensation they conjured.**

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**She was back in the dirty streets of Seattle again, the moment for soul searching had past. Just in time, too, since she didn't actually know how to explain away the sudden determination and strength she had somehow found in herself. Tomorrow was another day. She was ready for whatever White would throw at her, whatever life decided to hit her with.**


	2. Too late for regrets

**Part Two**

**Too late for regrets**

Doing Jam Pony deliveries had never been so hard on her before. She mostly minded her own business the whole day, looking after her fellow transgenics. Normal seemed to have mellowed a bit. But when she was forced to actually do some deliveries to justify her paycheck, she somehow always seemed to land in sector nine. Logan's sector. Sector police controls had become quite strict lately. Waiting in line to pass, for the first time in a while her mind wandered to the off limits topic she had defined for herself. 

It had been two weeks since she had seen him and several days since they had last spoken, six days and seven hours actually. His pitching in with Joshua's and her own rescue from the sewers had helped her feel better about the break-up, she had even been able to draw comfort from his unexpected words: „No matter how things are between us, I'll always have your back". Afterwards she hadn't called him and except for one time he had stopped calling, too. Maybe he had finally understood that it wasn't about Alec or her  feelings for him. Maybe he had noticed the grin plastered on her face as she had discovered him waiting for them in the Aztec. How she had berated herself for that feeling that had invaded her at his sight. 

Maybe he had finally forgiven her. Yeah, right! You wish! She was conveniently forgetting their last conversation, or rather full blown fight, on the phone. He had begged her to skip town for a while. She had refused. She was needed here, she couldn't just leave. However, she fully intended to settle matters soon and then finally scram for someplace less dangerous. While trying to convince her, his voice and determination had reminded her of the time she went after Zack in the Manticore woods. He had seemed really nervous, even talking of leaving Eyes Only aside for a few weeks and going to the cabin to let things cool off. 

She couldn't help feeling a bit guilty. Eyes Only had been losing a lot of popularity siding with the transgenics. He had been right. He had been involved in this already. And Alec would probably need Logan's help. She couldn't keep going to Eyes Only contacts behind his back for the forged papers. She would have to tell him the truth about Alec one of these days, after all, it wasn't fair to ruin the friendly relationship Alec had with Logan. 

Brazenly eyeing the helmeted man who would soon have to see her sector pass, Max caught him suspiciously checking out her bike. She was using the Ninja again, regardless of Normal's bickering. Things were just getting too hot not to have a quick means of transportation. Seeing the way the cop was ogling her baby Max couldn't help a sinking feeling in her stomach: „No, not again! I swear, if they seize my bike again..." 

But she didn't have enough time to finish her thoughts of good-will towards the bulky officer in front of her.  The checkpoint shack had the latest news blaring out of a dilapidated TV set. The slight frizz usually accompanying a hack caught her attention. As always in these cases, her heart seemed to skip a beat, her hearing blanking out all the background noise, trying to focus on Logan's voice: 

_„Do not attempt..." _

Damn ! She was next.

„Could I see your papers, please, Miss."

„Jam Pony courier", she blurted out her well used passe-par tout phrase.

_„...bulletin. It cannot be traced..."_

„ I need to check your backpack as well as your pockets, miss."

Normally she would have protested, but Logan's voice had her enthralled, so that she just let herself be searched. Wasn't he about to skip town ?

_„...the only free voice left in the city. Your secret is out, your location has been revealed. Manticore ..."_

What the hell was that about? Manticore ? 

„Turn around, miss."

She complied, feeling her own pulse in her ears. The voice of a woman interrupted the cable hack and Max unwittingly held her breath. 

_„That was an Eyes Only cable hack from three months ago. Since then his broadcasts have focussed on the fate of the transgenic escapees from Manticore..."_

„Free to go. Next."

_„..mass hysteria." _

„Move it" 

_„This morning, Eyes Only, also known as Logan Cale, ..."_

„Shit!" 


	3. Disaster strikes

**Part three**

**Disaster strikes**

„Out of the way, babe!"

_„...wheelchair-bound, free lance cyber journalist, former co-owner of Cale Industries, died, shot execution style in his home in the Fogle Towers. The self proclaimed free voice of the city *was* traced, *was* stopped and is no more."_

Max didn't know how she passed the checkpoint. She remained rooted on the side, unable to process any thought as the triumphant female voice droned on.

_„...Military Police have taken over the case. Stay tuned for more information as KIPH brings you the hottest news in town."_

Her sensitive ears didn't hear the sector police yelling at her. She was however painfully aware of the hushed voices murmuring in the background. 

„Cale? Wasn't he...?" 

„Yes, ...killer hoverdrones..." 

„...transgenic ass kisser..." 

„...mayor Steckler..." 

„Eyes Only ? ...fucking crip..."

Her fingers gripped the bike with incredible fierceness, as if needing to feel it, to make up for the gaping hole in her heart and the numbness enveloping her brain. 

NO ! Logan. Logan ! Logan ??? 

Max raced through the crowded streets, not even noticing the one or the other person barely making it to the sidewalk. Hands clenched tight on the bike, head spinning, heart pumping madly, she tried to get her mind to work again. An X 5 soldier caught by surprise, lacking the necessary focus to concentrate on the mission ? A disgrace. What mission ? Where was Lydecker when one needed to be yelled at ? 

Her brain seemed to be stuck on a loop, endlessly repeating a name, almost like in a chant: Logan, Logan, Logan. He had looped the video camera at Manticore so that they could get in. But she had died in his arms. Was this what he had felt ? Helpless ? Powerless ? What could she do ? She had rushed to his rescue several times, in each instance relying on split second decisions, not thinking even for a moment that he could actually die. She had jumped off a building after him, certain she would catch him in time. 

While he had been in serious danger more than once, she never had to actually face the idea that he was gone. There had always been a loophole: a transfusion, an antidote, the voice clone of Eyes Only. There had always been something for her to focus on, never giving her the time to really think about losing him. 

„Shot execution style". No loophole there. Tears were threatening to overwhelm her, blurring her perfect vision; the own pulse was madly rushing in her ears. Just then, an incredible loud and high pitched tone made her jump in her seat, somewhat loosening the dead grip she had on her bike. Someone was paging her. 

She stopped on the side of the road to check her pager. Original Cindy. She couldn't deal with her friend right now. For the fraction of a second her hand had trembled as she wanted to clip the pager back to her belt. And then it really started trembling, as the information slowly seeped through to her hazed brain. There had been another call three hours earlier. From Logan.


	4. Reaching for you

**Part four**

**AN: Almost forgot. If you actually like this thing go and read the stories of Rach L. If not, even more so. Her stories rock! I tried really hard not to let myself be influenced by „Denouement" and I hope I have succeeded. If not, well, flame away. „Denouement" really is a landmark in DA fanfiction and me humble epigone can't not give the necessary respect where it is due. **

**I wasn't going to do this, but after reading the first parts  again, I think I should. K, I really like Max and Logan and Eyes Only. No buts. I haven't seen Alec yet, but from the transcripts he sounds nice enough to be included. If this builds up to a romance it will be M/L. I'm not sure if I want to include a lot of romance yet, I thrive on angst. But Alec friendship is not excluded. And Logan haters can find a small part they might enjoy, too. Anyway, it gets very dark before it becomes shippy. Please keep that in mind as you read. And if you have suggestions, I'd like to hear them.**

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**4. Reaching for you**

Logan. He had paged her. Had needed her. Why had she not heard the damn thing? Where had she been ? Yeah, probably at Alec's place, briefing him on the transgenic tasks of the day. She had left her things on the bike outside his door and hadn't bothered to check afterwards. After all, if it was important, the person would call back, right ? Shit ! 

She had promised to have his back. And he had needed her. She felt like smacking her fist through a hard surface, but there was nothing around. Nothing she could destroy like she had destroyed everything she had ever held dear in her life.

The pager went off again. This time it was Alec. Could she afford to wallow in self pity and not call him back yet ? What if it was important ? She didn't have time to reach a decision. It went off again. Detective Sung. Looked like everybody who had ever had her pager number had just decided to call at the one time she really did not want to talk to anybody but to her guilty conscience. Hell, she should be thankful someone *was* calling her at this point. As long as it wasn't a guy with a Red implant looking for a transgenic mommy for his army.... she'd need all the support she could get.

While she looked around for a pay phone she thought about the many times Logan had blown her pager off. The last few times with her not answering it on purpose. For the fraction of a second she felt tempted to actually call his penthouse, madly hoping against all hope. But as she had said before, hope was something for losers. _A con job people trip behind till they finally get a grip on the cold, hard truth. She already knew the cold, hard truth. _

Now she needed to talk to Sung. He would know more.  Searching again for a phone, she couldn't help noticing that she was just a block away from Logan's place. She had never thought about it as Fogle Towers or the Eyes Only headquarters. Just Logan's place. Almost home at one time. The one place she always felt safe and loved at, cared for, regardless of her genetic faults or her quirky temper tantrums. Even the one time he had almost thrown her out after the messed up chicken dinner date she had known it wasn't her fault. No matter what, he had still cared for her. Even after the whole Rafer and Alec and furry friends mess.

By now the crowd had grown larger and she had to get off the bike. Right in front of Fogle Towers a large number of onlookers blocked her way. Police and military were moving on the street like vultures waiting for their prey to die. Except this time... She tried not to listen to the voices in the crowd and instead headed for the pay phone at the corner.

The pager again. Bling. Shit, shit. She had forgotten all about him. Logan had first said something about not being able to afford him and then about him finding a great job at a private clinic somewhere just outside of Seattle. Having a hunch that more people would call, making her more miserable than she already was, she called home to leave a message, knowing her friend would probably be at Jam Pony. Max needed to push the emotions that threatened to drown her away and concentrate on... on what ? She gulped and grabbed the receiver harder. She'll find something. Like the bastard who had dared... 

A fierce determination made the muscles in her jaw twitch, her eyes lost the soft brown hue Logan had liked so much and grew ominously dark and icy. 

„Hey Cindy, it's me, I've just heard. Can't talk about it right now. Do me a favor, please and get all my calls for me. Unless it is really important I don't want to talk to anyone. I'm ok. I'll be home tonight. Later."

One down, one more to go.

„Detective Sung, please. Max Guevara, detective." 

She tried hard to keep her voice in check but couldn't help herself asking: 

„Is it true ? I just heard it on the news."

There was a short pause at the other end of the line and Max berated herself for being so stupid to somehow hold on to hope.

„I'm afraid so, Max. It happened less than two hours ago. I'm terribly sorry. The press somehow got wind of it right away and aired the news, even though the military wanted this kept under wraps."

Max gulped and refrained from asking questions. She knew Matt would tell her everything soon enough. 

„Neighbors heard the shot and called us, but the MPs took the body. I don't know much else yet, but listen, we need to talk in private as soon as possible." 

Max was only half listening. The MPs took the body. The body. Logan.

„Max, are you there ?"

„Yes, detective." 

They set up a meeting for later in the evening, but she was afraid he would have more questions than answers. And Sung was one of the few who could actually link her to Eyes Only. He had seen her kick ass often enough. But then he had also saved her ass often enough.

No. No more emotional lapses. She would keep it all business until the ones responsible would be found and punished. She was X 5-452 and had a mission. Right now she had to go on recon. The time to kick ass would come soon enough.


	5. Relinquish all hope, ye who enter

**Part five**

**Relinquish all hope, ye who enter...**

Max pushed her bike slowly towards the middle of the road, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. No, not yet. Just a bit more. She revved up her baby, the sound of it getting lost in the blaring of police sirens  and the yelling of orderlies. Then she steered it towards the busiest looking part of the crowd and let it go with as much momentum as possible on the rather short portion of freeroad. Just as expected, the bike got everybody's attention. Max didn't need more as she whisked around the corner to use her favorite way of access into Logan's home: the roof. 

Peeking into the penthouse she  smothered every shred of emotion and focussed on the voices she could hear if she strained enough. There seemed to be a guard at the entrance, talking angrily with a few reporters. Forensics were just leaving. Max used the moment to quickly jump in and take a look around. The computers were gone. He would have been really pissed to know that. Max shook herself. She'd have to deal with the informant net and everything else later. 

Right now her eyes were riveted on his messed up furniture and papers. Right there, where she had so often found him on her unannounced visits, was his wheelchair and on the floor, next to it, a huge puddle of a bloody mess surrounded by a chalk line made every nerve in her body tense. Chalk on his wooden floor. Her mind was playing tricks on her again, focusing  on everything else but the blood. Well, it wasn't just blood, but that was no excuse.

They had messed up Logan's place and he couldn't do anything about it anymore. But she could ! A grim smile surfaced on her face as she forced her thoughts elsewhere, trying to look in the other rooms. Where was his exoskeleton ? Maybe he had had it on. 

Just then, the voices at the entrance  grew louder, attracting her attention. An agitated soldier was trying to ward off the reporters but his efforts had little success.

„Are you sure he was Eyes Only ?" 

„I'm not at liberty to say anything, sir."

However, he suggestively looked around for his superiors and seeing none he promptly pocketed a pack of bills. 

„As long as you don't quote me"...he mumbled and continued: 

„As the paramedics came in they found his computers on and they had the image of Eyes Only on the screen. It was Cale's face, then just his eyes and then the eyes with the stripes, just like in the hack." 

„Maybe he was just some freak playing around ?" the reporter tried to suggest, as if it were hard for him to believe that he was actually standing in the door of Eyes Only. 

The MP looked flustered, suspecting that his word was being doubted and never once noticing he was saying more than he had intended. 

„There were other documents, too, but I really can't say anything about that." 

„Well, then, how did he die ?" 

Max closed her eyes for a moment and tried to think of Renfro and Manticore, just to prepare herself for what she was going to hear. The answer was prompt and included everything she had hoped to never know:

„He was shot at close range with a large caliber gun. Ok, folks, that's all I can say right now. You'll have to wait till they officially release information."

Using the fraction of a second when the MP was too absorbed by his own importance to pay much attention to anything else, the youngest reporter of the group dared to barge in a few steps, only to have his eyes grow large. He gasped, slightly greenish around his mouth, as he took a closer look at the blood puddle: 

„Geez, large caliber, there can't have been much left of his head." 

„Yeah," the other one chuckled, „eyes only."

Max shot forwards as if propelled by a spring. She was about to jump him and break his neck but caught herself in time and rushed out to the roof instead, heading straight for the Space Needle. At this point she finally did miss her bike but couldn't care less. Her world had collapsed on her, just as Zack had warned her it would and all she could think of was the time she had wasted. She had thought about that ever since the virus bitch, but now every fucking tiny moment she had thrown away, touching or not touching, weighed heavily on her soul. The soul she hadn't known she had before meeting Logan. 


	6. Unanswered questions

**Part six**

**Unanswered questions**

Climbing up she remembered the moments she had shared with him up here, despite his being afraid of heights. Somehow she had a feeling he had been mocking her on that one. He had changed her world, made her feel human, made her find her place in the world. What did it matter that the transgenics were on the run, that they had been exposed. If it hadn't been for Logan right now she would be one of the desperate fugitives, trying in vain to save her sorry ass. That is, if she would still be alive. Now she had actually become their leader, their protector. Not that she had ever wanted that position, on the contrary. But he had taught her to be at home in both worlds, not just physically, but emotionally, too. In the process he had opened up to her like to no other, had let her glimpse beneath the Eyes Only mask, had let her know about friendship and love. 

Her perfect memory tortured her with snippets of their conversations: words, just words, nothing more.  But they expressed the incredible strong feelings she had known he had for her. A pale of wind tousled her hair and she remembered the day she seized on his couch. That day everything had stopped being only about saving the world and began being about saving themselves. And she had repaid him by pushing him away, discarding the gift he made to her when he confessed his love. She doubled over as the pain she felt became almost physical. Her sobs and silent tears finally erupted in an explosion of hiccups and she collapsed, crying on the Space Needle, alone with her sorrow.

Hours later the chill of the evening wind brought her back to reality. She had known this day would come but it was by far the worst scenario that could have ever occurred to her. She regretted so many things, most of all the bitchy half lie, the fact that Logan hadn't known for sure she loved him and only him. But she could not and would not trade any second spent with Logan - not for anything in the world. The prince was gone. But no matter what they did to the princess, nothing could ever take the memories away from her.  It was time to face the facts and assume responsibility for her own decisions. She had pushed him back and now he was dead, „shot execution style", all her love for him left unspoken. Suddenly something dreadful occurred to her. Was it possible ? Would he have done it ? Could it be that he had killed himself and the police had just assumed.... NO. After a few agonizing moments she was able to convince herself that he wouldn't have done it. Besides, they had never said anything about a gun. Damn, she hadn't looked for it, either, the gun he had kept locked in the drawer ever since... 

Sniffling her tears back she got up and looked down onto the city one last time. Today must have been one of those days. She had let emotions interfere with her efficiency and now she needed to start again and retrace her steps. This time she would do a proper job of it. 


	7. May the hunt begin

Part seven  
  
May the Hunt Begin  
  
There was no more time for painful self pity now. The nagging thought of a possible suicide still hidden deeply in her hazed mind, Max headed for her meet with Sung. She expected to find him alone at the location they had agreed upon at South Market, but seeing what looked like civilian thugs around him made her keep her distance. Could Sung be a traitor ? After all someone had to have traced Logan down. She was about to disappear from the area when the flower vendor at the corner ran after her. She knew him, had often chatted with him when shopping. But this time he just handed her a bouquet of red roses and said conspiratively:  
  
„Best wishes from the nice gentleman".  
  
She looked at him puzzled but couldn't afford to stay around and be spotted by Sung's thugs.  
  
Three blocks away Max finally stopped and started searching the bouquet for a message. There was just a normal customer card attached to it and a scribbled line: „Hot run 411 SN"  
  
It didn't take Max long to figure the meaning out. She cursed silently. Matt Sung wasn't the only one. In fact, most people at Jam Pony knew Logan as a friend or at least acquaintance of hers. She couldn't go there, not even at home for that matter. Time to regroup.  
  
Her first call went to Alec. She had an errand for him. Afterwards he should meet her with Cindy at Joshua's. Bling was next. She summoned him to the next gas station. At least there they could talk while pretending to stand in line. Not like she actually needed gas after losing her baby. Shit. At the moment it had seemed a good idea. On second thought...  
  
Blings tall figure appeared in the crowded little street, his brow all a frown. Looking at him from the distance reminded her of better times, in fact, that was the only reason Max let herself be hugged, only to slip away in a quick motion seconds later.  
  
Going over to the washroom area they both felt the need to keep their discussion all business.  
  
„Max, you need to leave town. I scored two sector passes and an ID for you".  
  
„Not you too, Bling !" she exclaimed, slightly pissed off. And yet, she was intrigued.  
  
„How did you get those ?"  
  
„Trade secret." He smiled, but only barely.  
  
„I'm serious, Max. I talked to his cousin Bennett."  
  
As her eybrow lifted slightly, he added:  
  
„They had him pegged as next of kin and let me tell you, he is in deep trouble."  
  
He hated to bring this up but it seemed the only way to convince her.  
  
Max cringed at the thought. Bennett was probably the only other Cale she could be civil to and he didn't look like he could bear much hassle from the police.  
  
„Trouble?"  
  
„They got him out of bed to identify him. Afterwards he got arrested. I had to listen to Margo for a full hour before I could find out more. They are going to release him eventually."  
  
Max seemed not to understand. She was just glad Bling refrained from talking about Logan. Right now the thought of it made her stomach churn. But she had sighed in relief too soon. Bling caught her gaze and faintly said, as if he knew her innermost thoughts:  
  
„Definitely murder."  
  
He hesitated but sensed her unspoken question and continued:  
  
„I haven't seen him."  
  
Max gripped his arm hard.  
  
„Bling, I need to see him."  
  
He had been afraid of this. He tried to let her down gently.  
  
„Max, Margo spilled her guts about you and they have a warrant out".  
  
She didn't seem to care much as she shot him an angry look.  
  
„I need to know, Bling."  
  
„You can't go. You know, the informant network was not the only thing I was supposed to take care of in the event this came about. He made me promise to keep an eye on you if anything happened to him. You might think you don't need it, and it might have been a while back, but I promised." She looked like she wanted to give a biting reply but averted her eyes at the last moment.  
  
He went on:  
  
„I tried to get to Sung. I don't know why, but he is under surveillance. Somehow they know too much for my taste."  
  
This time their eyes locked.  
  
„Bling..."  
  
He had hoped to spare her this, but he didn't seem to have any choice.  
  
„Anyway, Bennett said there was barely anything to identify."  
  
The hard slap he promptly received was actually welcome He would have kicked himself if he could have for saying such a thing to her. But at least it showed she still had the spunk in her. Damn, that had hurt, even though she was inches shorter than him. Seeing that she was about to run off, he called out:  
  
„Max, OK. But I'll go. It's too dangerous for you, they have your picture and if anything happens,  
  
Sung can't help right now."  
  
She stared at him defiantly, but seeing his concerned look she finally gave in.  
  
„Want me to look for anything in particular ?"  
  
Max was all business again and both of them couldn't help being relieved.  
  
„The exo. Any weapons he had on him or what they found in the apartment.What happened to his equipment." She was about to go on but refrained. „Anything that could help."  
  
And as if in an afterthought she added faintly:  
  
„And Bling." She paused for a second.  
  
„I need you to be absolutely sure it's him."  
  
Her last words had shaken him so deeply he let her go without uttering another sound. 


	8. Hell's Angels

Part Eight Hell's Angels  
  
Alec was raging inside as he ducked between the wet metal shadows of the parking lot, waiting. On his left, the half broken neon sign of the Raven seemed to mock him, calling out to him with its dark warmth. It seemed to him as if sharp icicles were merrily rushing to nose-dive over his location, but he had to huddle behind smelly old crocks, for he, X5-494, had been assigned on a rescue mission. He swore, feeling like kicking some of the vehicles around, but refrained, for fear they'd crackle and crock up, attracting too much attention.  
  
Just like Max to take it out on him. He had been afraid of it, but thought that his help now would make up for all the times he had deliberately or not interfered between her and Logan. He still believed he could have been able to talk some sense into her, but that had been before Cindy's arrival. The few minutes they had before Max had called, were used to talk things over and plan how to help her.  
  
What Cindy finally brought herself to confess, hit him like a ton of bricks and also severely limited his options. That explained everything: Logan's grumpiness and more than distant attitude, the swiftness with which he and Max had broken up, everything. At first, he had felt incredible anger at the guts Max had to draw him into her sorry excuse for a relationship - or break-up for that matter - with Logan. Those two never seemed to be able to do it right. Even if he liked her that was no reason to let himself be used as a pawn for her to get rid of wonderboy. Hell, he was angry right now, furious and the icy drizzle did nothing to calm him down.  
  
But he could not let that anger out tonight. He had screwed up royally. Again. He hadn't actually intended it when he just went along with Max' lie, but who cared, she still blamed him somehow, even if she never said so. If Manticore had ever bothered to issue indications of usage for its X5 soldier series, Alec was sure there would be one mentioning: "X5-494, to be used for hopeless missions, bringing in corpses or terminally ill subjects, retrieval of items lost in battle and laying blame in case of exposure."  
  
But there was one thing Alec had to thank Manticore for: his perky attittude. It had saved him from many hopeless situations and right now it let him take a glimpse at what he imagined as X5-452's indications of usage: test subject for psychological warfare, kills every person she comes close to. It reminded Alec that he owed Max and would have to tread very carefully with her. Just like he had to tread carefully now, waiting for the right moment to jump the scruffy bum three times his size, happy to take it all out on him. Darn, now there were two of them. Well, the more the merrier.  
  
*  
  
Let the worm twitch in the rain a few minutes more! Serves him right. Carl's best chum and occasional dealer, Frank, sure as hell didn't own a watch. Why would he? Living on the road off clever deals like this one would require nothing more than he already had: six foot in height and lots of muscle mass, in fact, just mass would do, too. Sure enough, he emerged from the Raven to meet Carl. After all he might not care about Carl, but the goods might get wet and he was planning on having fun tonight.  
  
"Where is it? I hope it ain't rotting in the rain like you?"  
  
"Money first, goods later."  
  
"It's in here," Frank vaguely pointed to his large belly pouch. "Is it hot? Where did you swipe it from anyway?"  
  
"It's not, some cops grabbed it today and needed cash for it."  
  
"Lemme see."  
  
As Carl finally deigned to show his mate the shabby barn where he had hidden the precious goods, he could have sworn he saw something brushing past him. But he never could find out what actually happened. When he awoke in the morning next to his pal, both of them with a monster headache and the clothes almost rotten from the heavy Seattle rain that had poured over them that night - the wonderful bike he had swiped was gone. 


	9. It's darkest before dawn

**Part nine**

**It's darkest before dawn**

Bling was definitely not happy about dragging Beverly Shankar into this mess but the morgue had two heavy set smiley faces in front of it and he was fresh out of other ideas.

He had found the young medical examiner sitting at her desk dejectedly, having been informed of the news by the collegues on the morning shift, who were just leaving, whispering among themselves. He had presented Beverly with his plan of action, asking for her help and now he was waiting for her decision. 

The formaldehyde smell permeating the air on this floor of the building irritated his nostrils and increased his impatience. „So, do you think we can pull this off?" he asked the woman engrossed in thoughts, trying to give her a way out, if she felt things were too dangerous.

The way Beverly looked away for a few seconds didn't bide well for Bling's plan. Even for him, it wasn't really about the danger involved, rather about seeing his one time employer, friend and hero under these circumstances. And Beverly might have been a very capable ME but that didn't mean she was immune to such matters when things hit close to home. The battered pencil she was nervously twisting in her hand proved it.

„Max is right, you know. I guess I really didn't want to put myself through this. We'll make it work somehow. Actually, a few minutes ago I did try to get a hold of the preliminary report done at the scene but they are keeping a tight lid on everything, they even brought their own ME to replace ours."

Bling frowned at the news. „Figures. I was kind of amazed they even brought him here, considering the circumstances. Anything on the office grapewine?"

They were whispering in her room, waiting for Dr. Shankar's collegue next door to get off work so they could go about things with more ease.

„Bennett Cale was here this morning and word is, he was so distraught by what he saw, he couldn't even sign all the forms. That's my loophole, but we'll probably only get a few seconds. Anyway, I wouldn't be surprised if they moved the body before tomorrow." 

Beverly got up and looked at her watch, pacing nervously. The moment her collegue went out the door and the adiacent room remained empty, Beverly went to retrieve a quarantine suit from the hallway locker. Bling looked on, slightly puzzled as she handed the suit to him. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before Beverly looked away, eyes shimmering moist. Now was the moment to ask what had been on her mind all day.

„Bling, he really was.... wasn't he?"

He didn't respond immediately, instead studied the medical equipment with sudden interest.

Finally, he answered, eyes fixed on the grey zipper of the suit he was fumbling with. „Do you really want me to answer that?"

Did she, really? If he had indeed been Eyes Only, than a lot of her hope for a better world was gone. If he hadn't, Logan's death would serve as a decoy. Curiosity wasn't the best strategy either way. 

His sharp tone brought her mind back to the task at hand. "Do I put this on?"

„Yes," she answered, taking him back to her office to change. "You'll only have seconds and I can't be with you there. Do you know what to look for?"

Bling nodded grimly thorugh the transparent face piece of the suit and they headed for the morgue. Once they were in, the course of events couldn't be stopped anymore.

Closely followed by Bling, Beverly boldly approached the two soldiers guarding the dimly lit room full of metal drawers and produced her ID.

„Dr. Beverly Shankar, ME. It was brought to my attention that the IW/602 form regarding epidemiological clearance was not signed by the doctors handling the case of one Logan ...hmmm… Cale," she completed, taking a long look at the papers on her clipboard.

„Madam, you are not authorized to access this area", the huge blond man swiftly responded, not without a quick distraught glance at the quarantine suit Bling was wearing.

„The hell I'm not authorized, when I just got a dead body on my examination table with the same exotic disease this..." she looked at her papers again „...Cale… suffered from a week ago."

She looked the MP straight in the eye and continued. „It's highly contagious and there is no known cure for it. Here, look for yourself."  

She shoved a pile of papers into the MP's hands, partly some of Logan's actual medical records, partly some gruesome pictures of various infectious diseases. The moment the man cast a glance at the pictures, she knew she had him. Bling didn't miss the way the other guard drew slightly back from Beverly.

„And then I find out that there was no epidemiological release form signed for this body! For all I know, he could have died of Ebola and infected half the hospital in the process. I even heard he was involved in a case where the CDC rushed in a while ago." The poise she was presenting her case with would have fooled even Bling.

Slightly green around the mouth, the second guard tried to sound threatening without really succeeding, „Madam, there is no one here to sign the papers now. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

She bullied right back, „And have half the hospital die on me? Are you going to be responsible for that?" Then, satisfied with the guard's reaction, her voice softened a bit. „Anyway, all I really need is to make sure the man did not suffer from an infectious disease at the time of death. Then we can all sleep happily."

Bling couldn't help admiring the young doctor. For one who worked with stiffs all day, she was really adept at psychological manipulation. He didn't want to jeopardize the process, so he kept quiet, as planned.

„That's why Dr. Lyle is here in full containment suit. He'll just check and then we can leave. Otherwise I'll have to put the whole hospital under quarantine and we don't want that now, do we?"

The blond guard finally gave in. He got his tazer out and pointed it to the man in the containment suit. „No sudden moves, we're watching you. And make it quick."

Bling stepped forward and opened the drawer shown to him. Concentrating on shutting out all the murmurs and background noises, afraid the guards might see him hesitate even for a second, Bling turned the body around, feeling the lower back for scars, all the while intent on avoiding a closer look at what once had been a face. Someone's face.

He was just going to turn and announce that there had been no infectious disease, when the world around him faded to black and he crumpled to the ground.


	10. Informants and their predicaments

**Part ten**

**Informants and their predicaments**

It hadn't been easy to find out who was in charge of all the MP's crawling around Logan's penthouse. And yet, here she was now, inside the largest Seattle base, waiting to kick some ass. She wanted to catch the man alone or just go in and search the place, but someone was still there, at three AM. Damn. Patience was not one of her assets. And each minute passing made her palms itch with the want for action. Sighing, she settled down to comfortably hang off the window ledge along the building wall, while trying to ignore the cold drizzle numbing her hands. Where were Logan's high tech gadgets when one really needed to hear what was going on?

*

Seeing his superior staring through the window at 3 AM was something that made the young lieutenant Stetter want to hide in the darkest corner available in the universe. Great. The boss was in a sour mood. And hadn't slept at all in a while. But that was nothing compared to what would follow when he heard the news.

"Sir?"

The colonel's green eyes narrowed to the yellowish slits of a predator as he turned to face the latest disturbance, "Yes, lieutenant?"

The bellow followed right after, "Are you waiting to grow roots before you speak?"

"Nnno... sir, colonel Behrens, sir! I'm afraid I have bad news, sir."

Oh, how he wished the polished hardwood floor would open up and swallow - the colonel preferably. But the object of his kind thoughts looked past him at the neatly ordered mahogany desk and asked, almost softly:

"Let me guess, lieutenant: the body was not that of Logan Cale?"

"No sir, I mean yes sir, Bennett Cale has positively identified him before being released from custody. That is not the problem, sir."

"THEN WHAT?"

"Sir, the body is missing."

"MISSING?!"

Stetter felt himself cringe and grow beet red at the same time as the invectives proffered by his superior flooded his ears.

"You actually have the guts to come in here and tell me you lost a fucking paralytic body that could not move on its own when it was alive?"

"No sir, I mean it wasn't me, sir."

The colonel paced around the room and Stetter, feeling the hot breath in his neck, almost lost his cool.

"The guards were supposed to change shift at 02:00 hours. All they found was the two unconscious bodies of the men they were supposed to replace."

"At 02:00? And you are telling me now, a full hour later? That means the body could have been missing for more than 8 hours! How could that happen?"

This was the tricky part and Stetter knew it. At least Behrens had calmed down a bit.

"The only thing we could find out was that at 21:30 there was a fire alarm and the floor in question was evacuated for ten minutes until the fire was put out."

"You mean to tell me there actually was a fire?" Behrens mocked.

"Yes, sir, someone spilled chemicals in the storage room and a lot of smoke was the result."

Behrens planted himself in front of Stetter and looked straight at him. "That it lousy intel, Stetter. I want a full report, witness declarations, lab results, the works, first thing in the morning."

The lieutenant almost chuckled as Behrens grew an even darker shade of angry red, but he caught himself in time to hear the colonel gruffly dismiss him and dial a number on his cell phone.

Stetter carefully measured his steps to the door, not too quick, not too slow. The moment the door closed behind him, he allowed himself to sigh and slump against the parched wall, a mad grin plastered on his face. Being part of the informant net could prove to be a hassle. Sometimes. But most times, it was a lot of fun.


	11. Girls kick ass, says so on the T

Part eleven  
  
Girls kick ass, says so on the T  
  
AN: I should have asked this earlier, but well, better late than never. I need a beta reader. Is anyone out there who could help me out, please?  
  
bigparola@yahoo.com  
  
Finally. He was alone. She was just about to barge in when it occurred to her that Behrens was talking on the phone. Patience, Max, the universe is right on schedule. Damn, where had that thought come from ?  
  
*  
  
Stetter was about to leave the barely lit corridor when through the slightly opened door he heard glass crashing. Should he dare peek in? Maybe Behrens had decided to take out his frustrations on the ever present bottle. Or maybe he had come to the conclusion that his job was too tough and rid the world of his sorry presence? Summoning all his guts, Stetter peeked through the crack feeling like a teenager spying on his older sister. However, he was not prepared for the sight that greeted him.  
  
A rather scrawny long haired girl clad in black had jumped in through the window and had Behrens pinned to the wall. Wow, the lass could swing a punch, indeed! How come that long hair didn't get in her way? Another upercut left Behrens lying on the floor.  
  
„Who are you?", he heard his boss ask.  
  
Probably ex-boss by the way things were looking. Glancing behind him, Stetter made sure the noise wouldn't alert the guards waiting two doors away and settled to watch. Ouch, that must have hurt. Every time Behrens fell down, the girl picked him up with barely two fingers to land another punch.  
  
This time Behrens reached for the gun in his coat on the chair. CRASH! The chair was gone and Behrens had flown a few feet towards the window inmidst of the glass shards. Another kick. The last one had gone way below the waist line.  
  
„I'm the one asking questions here". Her voice was hard and icy. Stetter couldn't see her face very well from the position he was in but one thing was clear. Her voice and her looks didn't say anything about her abilities.  
  
Behrens tried to score a punch himself, but the girl was incredibly fast and pinned his arm behind his back.  
  
„I'll ask again. Who were you talking to on the phone?" THUD. Behrens landed on his fat ass again. Beautiful left hook.  
  
Another pitiful attempt from the colonel to swipe her feet from under her. No such luck. The lass was awesome. She had just jumped behind him in an incredible twist.  
  
„For the last time... Do you know how many bones the human body has? Maybe you'd like to brush up on your counting skills".  
  
„Sssenator.... Mc McKinley..."  
  
„What's he to you?" This time only a slight kick was needed.  
  
„He requested .... this inquiry."  
  
„You call this an inquiry?" She swiped him up and propped him on the desk, her face close to his.  
  
„How did you find Eyes Only?"  
  
Oops. Behrens was reaching for the alarm button incorporated in the desk. Should he intervene? Nope, not necessary. A sickening crunch announced the fact that the girl had noticed the move and prevented the colonel's fingers from reaching their target.  
  
This was getting kind of ugly, but Stetter could not bring himself to leave. While he enjoyed seeing his boss getting whacked, the violence of it was amazing. He would have eventually left if there hadn't been the slight issue of the informant net. This definitely was a big piece of news. Yep, it was fun. Besides, the informant net had involved intel only on a need to know basis. This girl was asking all the right questions and he wouldn't mind hearing some answers himself.  
  
„We... we've been monitoring Cale for months, him and other journalists. We found out that last year he was involved in a rescue attempt with a hostage situation at the Steinlitz hotel."  
  
Behrens stopped to spit out some blood and was promptly nudged to go on. Definitely not a pretty sight.  
  
„The officer in charge remembered Cale had promised Darius a way of spreading information without being stopped."  
  
„So what, that's the way journalism normally works when it doesn't have the gag of censorhip."  
  
„Since the whole transgenic thing, Mc Kinley has provided us with information and we had a hunch Cale was involved with Eyes Only."  
  
„You had a hunch? Since when does the MP act on a hunch?" From his point of observation the move had looked like a pat on Behrens' head, but Stetter could bet his life it had been a lot more, judging from the deep groan emmitted by the colonel.  
  
„The NSA is in it, too. He's been stirring up the masses for the transgenics and there is some risk of the government being overthrown or even of civil war." The girl snorted.  
  
„That wouldn't have been the case if you hadn't stirred the masses against the transgenics in the first place."  
  
Wow, she must be a huge fan. She whacked Behrens again, as if to remind him of the consequences of his reluctance.  
  
„So what happened, did you send a commando to take care of a man in a wheelchair or did you do it yourself ?" At this she shook the colonel and brushed him off the desk just as she would a dead fly.  
  
A light suddenly blinked on the desk and the girl's attention was diverted for a fraction of a second, enough for Behrens to grab a letter opener and lounge at her. After all, the colonel was a trained soldier.  
  
„Intelligence is measured by the ability to learn new things" she quipped dodging it. „Doesn't look like you range higher than a normal ape."  
  
The makeshift knife had flown in a high arch towards Stetter's hiding point behind the door and he retreated briefly. He was getting nervous. The guards might become suspicious that Behrens was still in his office at 04:00. That didn't happen a lot. They might come to check.  
  
„Are you going to answer or should we start counting what is left of your bones?"  
  
„We... we sent a man to ... bring him in. There was a fight and Cale got killed." Behrens tried to smirk disdainfully. „Would have thought ... the great Eyes Only had had .... a contingency plan."  
  
CRASH! Stetter was afraid to look. Indeed, Behrens didn't seem to learn. But he hadn't told the whole story. Would the girl notice the colonel was withholding important information ?  
  
„Like I would believe you! The way you make it sound, your killer was in self defense!"  
  
Nope, she hadn't seemed to notice.  
  
„Where can I find McKinley ?"  
  
THUD. Behrens didn't seem to be in much shape to even talk anymore. Time to go. Stetter left the door ajar just as it had been the whole time and tiptoed out of the corridor the moment he heard heavy steps running towards the colonel's office. Probably someone had noticed things were amiss. Loud voices and shattered glass resounded back to his hiding place on the emergency exit stairs. The girl seemed to have made it out in time. Incredible, the lass. Must have been one of the transgenics. Well, all in all he was glad he could forward an interesting report. The one for Behrens he could as well forget.  
  
AN: How's that ? Feel your trust in my intentions grow? Or are you an adept of the X-Files and Mulder's „Trust no one"? If you hit that review button now, I won't go all X-Files on you... Hehe, sorry about that. It's just that I'm a bit disappointed by the review number. 


	12. Hit the road, Jack

**Part twelve**

**Hit the road, Jack...**

AN: Yes, I inserted some things from the episode transcript of „She ain't heavy". For the purposes of this story this episode never happened, except for Joshua's going to Terminal City and the small part I inserted as announced.

**„Boo, why don't you let things cool off for a while?", Cindy frowned.**

**Max didn't answer immediately. She was helping herself to the food her homegirl had brought. Why didn't she actually? Joshua had left for Terminal City again. Cindy and Alec were the only ones still needing her. But Alec could help Cindy relocate. Joshua's place wasn't safe anymore, their own crib even less.**

**Kicking Behrens' ass hadn't brought her much else than a badly needed cool off. McKinley was nowhere to be found. The bottom line was - Logan was still dead, even if Behrens had received a beating to tell his grandchildren about. If he was still able to have any after that night that is. The Fogle Towers were still surrounded by various MP and other fauna. Everything in this town brought up bitter sweet memories. Too many of them. Bling hadn't called and Matt Sung had waved her off a few times on the phone. Some of his colleagues had remembered he had worked on many of the cases that had landed on Eyes Only hacks. Her poking around would only serve to make White nervous and put her friends, the very few remaining,  in danger. **

**Yes, it was time for her to go, indeed. She wasn't running, she told herself. In fact, she probably was needed elsewhere. Zack. He did have a barcode and yet he had no idea about being a transgenic. While Max trusted the cover Logan had created, it couldn't hurt to check up on her unknowing CO. Just to make sure he was safe and then she could come back.**

**Cindy almost jumped as Max dumped her plate into the sink and belatedly answered. **

**„I will, Cindy. I will. The moment Alec gets my bike back, I will."**

**„Before you go, there's something I want to say. You, Max Guevara, are my sister. You are my family." **

**Strangely, Max felt relieved. The words just poured out without her thinking about them:**

**„I love you, Cindy. You taught me more about being a woman than anybody. And you are right. You aren't just my best friend. You are family." **

**„I love you, too, Max." **

**Max didn't want to get all teary eyed so she hurried to say:**

**„Alec is still here to help you relocate. You take care of yourself, okay?" **

**„You, too, Max, you too." **

*****

**Fifteen years ago, the Space Needle would have been a beacon of light towering over the flourishing city. Nowadays it was just another ruin, a painful reminder of what had once been and would never be again. And that's exactly what it represented for him, too. He had been waiting since nightfall. Had the message not been clear enough? Had something happened? He straightened his sagging shoulders and resolved to give it just a bit more time. For old times' sake. **

*****

**She couldn't leave town without going up one more time. For a moment she wished she could just freeze to death and become a statue glued to the Space Needle, forever looking onto Seattle, protecting and avenging.**

**She fingered the Bast statue under her jacket. She had salvaged it from the disaster of the last hours as a keepsake and as reminder for the way she had failed to fulfil her role both as a protector and as an avenger. Why couldn't she be just like her, cold, relentless, bent solely on the mission? **

**She had mellowed too much lately. Reaching the platform, she looked around, searching the night. The note had unmistakably said „411 SN". Had she misunderstood? Not likely. But then, that had been hours ago. Sung probably hadn't managed to lose his tail yet. After the scene at South Market earlier he probably wouldn't try to contact her before it was safe to do so. **

**A slight screech startled her and almost caused her to punch the newly arrived.**

**„You again? Thought I told you I come here to be alone." Max felt very much tempted to actually whack Alec but she remembered in time that he had been very helpful today.**

**„Just thought you'd want your baby back right away." Alec didn't know why he cut her so much slack. He just felt she really did need a break after what had happened, so he smiled as Max put an arm around his shoulder and whispered: **

**„Thanks".**

** The impulsive movement reminded her of things better forgotten so she quickly headed for  the way down. Together they climbed down after taking a last searching look at the Space Needle. Nothing moved there.**

**„So, you're leaving ?" Alec dared to ask while Max climbed on her bike. **

**„Yep. For a while at least. Not much left for me to stay for. Besides, I seem to attract trouble. Here you go." She handed Alec a scrap of paper. **

**„My number. It's the mailbox I told you about. Check in from time to time so I know how things are."**

**„Thought you weren't going to give me the number. I seem to remember you saying something about how unreliable I was."**

**„Well, a girl can change her mind, can't she? Keep an eye on Cindy and the rest for me, will you ?"**

**„Yes, mommy."**

She took off, a tired smile on her face, leaving behind a cloud of dust and a somewhat irritated Alec. He frowned. Since when had he become so damn dependable ? It was all Logan's fault. He had always thought that Max was doing legwork for Eyes Only  because she had it bad for one Logan Cale, cyber-journalist. But now he realized the man had been much more than a prospective fling to a rogue X5 and a terrible busy body. What was pissing him off even more was the fact that Logan's attitude had been rubbing off. On him, smart Aleck of all people. The man had seemed to infect everyone around with a guilty conscience. Damn. He wished he could still kick his ass. Nothing he could do there. The man was dead. Then why was the guilty conscience still there ? Why did he feel like he wanted to right all the wrong ? Logan Cale was dead and yet, Eyes Only never seemed to have left...

**_AN: Now I really want to hear it. The next part will finally bring some of the answers you've been waiting for, but before that, I need to know not just that you loved or that you hated it, but the reason why, too. I know, I want a lot. Jut as an incentive for me to write more, faster..._**


	13. When a door closes, a window opens

**Part thirteen**

**When a door closes, a window opens**

**„Sir? I'm looking for a Nicholas Carter ?"**

**„Yes, that's me."**

**Working for „Express Deliveries" was no piece of cake The boss had as little imagination as the title of the business suggested it. It was tough, especially when you had to carry heavy packages for 6 floors when the elevator was broken. At least the warm smile of the recipient allowed some hope for a generous tip. Now this was a guy he would be happy to see his sister marry. Tall, athletic, with brown eyes to match his hair. Kinda sad looking and even stern but still, somehow good natured. Not like the good for nothing money bags three times her age she was hooked up with right now. Too bad, wishful thinking.**

**„I have an express shipment for you. Where can I unload it ?" **

**The man pointed to an empty corner in the large living room. **

**„Over there. Just be careful, it's fragile" **

*****

**Nicholas Carter would be due to work at the San Francisco Times in the morning, taking over a position as editor at the prestigious non-conformist newspaper. Until then he still had to unload and unpack the equipment he had bought through various online providers and had shipped over several other delivery services. He searched his pocket for some cash to tip the boy and refrained from looking at it too longingly. His last few dollars. Oh well... Starting tomorrow he would earn some more.**

**After the delivery boy left, the man slumped in the only chair available and perused the almost empty room. His thoughts seemed to wander off by themselves, reaching hidden corners of his mind he had thought sealed a week ago.**

**The worst case scenario he had ever imagined didn't even begin to describe the sense of doom and final destruction that had enveloped him after Seattle's shadows had been left behind. The thought of how he hitched a ride out of Seattle Zack-style made a bitter laugh escape his lips. He had stooped low in that respect, but then it was only because he had been on the run, still reeling after finally seeing her at the Space Needle. **

**He had never counted on losing anything else but his worldly possessions or his life. This was worse, so much worse. His heart was numb, his mind didn't fare much better, but other than that he was fine, just fine. It was for the best anyway. He managed to concentrate and underneath the contact lenses his eyes regained the hard, unyielding composure he usually hid himself behind. The red-blue and white Halloween mask was plastered over his face once again. Besides, Logan Cale might be dead, but Eyes Only could not wallow in misery, at least not today it seemed. Rebuilding the informant net was not going to be an easy task and he didn't need the distractions of the past to come haunt him. At least he had salvaged the laptop and some cash to help him start again.**

**He slowly rose from his newly acquired chair and headed for the window of his apartment. San Francisco was a beautiful city and he certainly wouldn't miss the rain in Seattle. After all there was no one to share a walk in the rain with.  Darkness had descended over the houses that could barely be seen at the foot of the tower and he pretended not to hear the faint voice in his head whispering: „Forever dark. Somebody's angel". He pretended not to draw unexpected comfort from the words spoken long ago and the warm sensation they conjured. **

**Eyes Only would soon be back to fight corruption, the moment for soul searching had past. Just in time, too, since he didn't actually know how to explain away the sudden determination and strength he had somehow found in himself. Tomorrow was another day. He was ready for whatever fate would throw at him, whatever life decided to hit him with. **

****

AN: So ? No, I haven't forgotten about Bling. That part of the story will be in posts to come...

****


	14. Fresh country air

**Part fourteen**

**Pin the name to the barcode**

It felt good to be inmidst of nature for a change. Where there were no people you could almost pretend everything was all right in the world. The ranch she was approaching didn't seem to be a brown spot among the green, instead it blended in, part of a whole. Max hoped Zack was all right, Logan had indeed found a great spot for him. 

Eerily, as she got closer, the place looked deserted. Max felt the adrenaline rush and proceeded to look for Buddy and Mary who had taken Zack in as a farm hand. Room after room, nothing. The bedrooms looked like somebody had packed in a big hurry. Damn. She had hoped the transgenic craze wouldn't have reached this remote place. At the same time she was reminded of Cape Haven, of the way people in a small town could turn into a lynch mob when faced with the unknown or when threatened. 

Finished with the house, Max proceeded to check the rest of the compound. There were none of the usual farm animals around, either. Her best bet for finding either Zack or Buddy would then be the next town. Involuntarily, she raised her hand to her neck, checking for the barcode. It had probably appeared again in full. Damn. Things were not going well at all.

Drawing closer to the center of the small town, she discovered why everything else had seemed left behind in a hurry. Several dozens men and women were gathered in front of the church, armed to their teeth. In their midst, Zack, Buddy and Mary. Damn, damn, damn.

Everybody was speaking at the same time, the sheriff trying in vain to calm down the spirits. She remembered Zack telling her how on the first day of the escape he had felt that everybody around was an enemy. This time he would have been right.

The angry mob was made up of normal people, some obviously interrupted while doing household chores, as was evident in their apparel Nevertheless, their number turned them into an enemy to be feared, as Max ruefully recognized.

She tried to approach unnoticed, blending in. It wasn't too easy a task, considering that she didn't really look like a typical farmhand. Seeing some of the odd looks she was receiving, she decided to stand more to the side. It wasn't as if she could intervene right now.

Angry shouts often overlapped the general murmur of the crowd, drawing cheers or approving nods from the rest of the people.

„Harboring a transgenic is a felony." 

„How could you? You have endangered our children!"

Buddy barely managed to get a few words in before he was shushed by the masses.

„You have known  him for a few months now and never until now did it cross your mind he might be the slightest threat". 

„Don't listen, they'll say anything to save their skins." Appreciative comments and shouts could be heard all around.

Why was Zack quiet?

„I say we get rid of the plague once and for all." The man's voice vehemently rose over their heads.

„He hasn't actually done anything wrong..." a more plaintiff one attempted to oppose.

Good, at least part of the crowd was still reluctant to use extreme force. For a moment, Max was tempted to say something, steer the discussion in the right direction, but seeing only grim faces around, she remembered in time that there was no real discussion possible here. Besides, she needed to remain unnoticed.

The sheriff finally intervened. „I'll lock them in and call the authorities. Then we'll see."

Multiple gun mouths trained on them, the three headed for the small jail of the town. Funny, Max observed, remembering Logan's rant on society when they had first met, except for the cars, it all seemed like it would have happened two hundred years ago. If the pavement had once been intact, now half of it was a dirt road.  Several people had arrived on horseback, unwilling to use precious gas foranything else but impending apocalypse. 

Max sighed, resigning herself to recon. There was nothing she could do now with all those guns cocked, ready to shoot at the slightest move. She had to wait for nightfall. In the meantime she needed an escape vehicle, since the Ninja was not large enough and too loud not to attract attention. Carrying around civilians was not her idea of fun anyway.

As she retreated towards the houses at the edge of the woods, hoping to swipe a car unnoticed, she couldn't help thinking of Logan. What had happened to her? If he were here he would be all over her to save Buddy and Mary. The two were Logan's contacts and had been kind enough to take Zack in, knowing at least some of his dark secrets. Granted, money must have played a role, too, but they looked like the honest type. She would have been enthusiastic about getting them out, too, a while ago. Now she only wanted to get Zack out and everything behind her. Whatever had made her so cynical and downright mean? Cindy wouldn't have missed the occasion for a „friendly" slap on the back of her neck.

Maybe they had all been right and Alec was wrong. Maybe it wasn't just about staying with your own. Yes, shit happened. Like Annie's death. She refused to think further. But how could she expect the norms to accept the transgenics if they segregated themselves on purpose? When had she begun thinking of them as „norms" anyway? Damn, once this was over, it would be time for a serious reevaluation.

Moving stealthily through the empty streets, she spotted it. There it was, a jeep, parked rather far away from the populated areas. Mindful of the alarms she was used to in Seattle, she approached it carefully. But no, the door was unlocked. It even had the keys behind the mirror. Wow! 

She looked around, wary of unpleasant surprises. Darkness was setting, but there were still many people around in town, she would have to wait a bit more. As if on call, she felt the dreaded pang in her lower body that announced another bout of seizures. Shit. This was so nnnottt the tttimmmee. 

She cowered between the seats and swallowed a handful of tryptophan.  Maybe it would pass enough for her to take action. Yeah, right! Lately she had been having a streak of bad luck. Or was it just bad planning as Zack would say? Anyway, why would it stop now?

She woke up half an hour later, all sweaty and weak, but at least she wasn't seizing anymore. The lights in town were all out, everything was quiet. That didn't mean that it had been right to just crash in a partially stolen car where anybody could have found her. She was in serious need of focus lest she should blow the whole escape and evade scenario.

Despite the antiquated air about it, the jail wasn't a piece of cake to get in. Several guards were standing in the way. No choice then, she had to kick ass again. The first two went down quietly, at a second's interval between them. The third had seen her though and had drawn out his gun when a shout from the cell diverted his attention. 

„Max !" 

That was enough for Max to take him down without much ado. Buddy had recognized her and Zack had a funny look on his face, too. She bent to search for the keys, but had to take cover, somebody was coming. Throwing the keys to Zack who grabbed them with ease, she retreated behind the heavy door. The sheriff and his deputy were hit hard by the metal door and fell down motionless. 

„Max, quick !" 

This time it was Zack calling. She forced a smile and helped Buddy out of the cell.

„They messed you up pretty well, huh?" she asked instead of a formal greeting. „Zack, hurry up, more are coming," she insisted, half annoyed, half happy to see him. Remembering Zack's call, she turned towards her former CO. „You know me?" 

„You're Max, you're in my group." 

She smiled broadly. „Yeah, let's go." Helping the two civilians out the window, Max headed for the jeep, urging the two inside, „Go. Quick." 

„And you?" Buddy was concerned. 

„We'll manage, just go." As much as their interest touched her, they needed to hurry.

Mary was the one to break the ice. „Max, thanks. And Zack, don't let them fool you. You're a good guy".

Max looked at Zack, he did seem slightly embarassed as he replied, „Thanks. Just go." 

She ignored the pang in her heart at those words and once the jeep had disappeared behind the trees, she concentrated on the situation at hand. Somebody was already following the jeep as far as she could tell, but the mass of the search party had followed Zack and her. She still thought Mary and Buddy had enough of a headstart to get away. Anyway she wasn't about to endanger the two by staying with them. 

Angry voices grew nearer, lights could be seen through the trees. They would be found in a matter of seconds unless they got to the Ninja. To top it all, she felt another seizure coming. Quickly she signaled Zack to head for the woods before he could notice something was wrong. They split up in silent understanding. 


	15. The universe is right on schedule

**Part fifteen**

**The universe is right on schedule**

The simple motion of booting up the laptop after a full week made him feel a shiver down his spine. The palms of his hands were even slightly sweaty and he felt himself tingle all the way to his toes. A wonderful feeling. If it hadn't been for Phil and his exoskeleton he would probably be long dead by now, several times over. Last time he had been in dire straits Logan Cale had ceased to exist. 

Weird how he could detach himself so completely from the man whose life he had lived for more than 30 years. Probably because Logan was indeed dead. The things that had mattered to him personally -as few as they were- were gone, Eyes Only being all that was left. Nicholas Carter wouldn't have much to live for. 

Two years with Max, two years in which he had been through incredible emotional ups and downs, so different from the monotone life from before, all gone. Max had been the one to lure him out from his hiding, to allow him to stand up for his feelings instead of hiding them behind a mask. She had helped him regain self-confidence, taught him about strength and courage. For a while he had hoped their relationship was a two way lane.  But what good was all he had accomplished if he had been the only one to make the effort? For such a long time she had been the one to coax him, to tell him his problems didn't matter, to wean him from the 24/7 Eyes Only work. And all that only to give up on him one day, just like that, leave him behind like a discarded rag... for Alec. 

Maybe he wouldn't suffer so much if he could really hate her, if he could believe that she was just another shallow skirt like Valerie, happy to dump him the moment something better came along. Then he would be able to go on. But damn it, he still loved her. How could he still love her after all the hurt she had caused him? He could neither forget nor forgive, but damn it, he still loved her. That's why he let her go, hoping that Alec would do right by her.

The computer beep tore him from his reverie and he stood up to hook the camera to the computer and check the cables. He sighed. No infrared until he got his finances going again. Bending over he couldn't help but revel in the ease with which he could perform every movement. Yep, if it hadn't been for the exoskeleton he'd really be dead. She had said she would have his back but she had probably been too busy with Alec to respond to his page. It was this one piece of machinery, given to him by someone he barely knew that had saved him. Not that it would have really mattered to him then if he lived or died. Still, he had met Phil through Max and had yearned to get out of the chair for Max. Yes, the universe was right on schedule.  

After seeing the „hack traced" warning he had barely had the time to erase the hard drive and grab a few necessities. The page to Max had been the first thing he had done. He hadn't been fast enough, though, it had taken less than five minutes for the tall blond thug to appear in his doorway with a large caliber gun trained on him. There had been no time to get the 9 mm stashed in his jacket. Even now he still could barely believe what had happened. Since Joshua's blood transfusion the exoskeleton was just a boost, but this time it had allowed him an unexpected, desperate jump which had landed him behind the thug. The surprise effect, adrenaline and two years of  constant upper body training did the rest. Today, almost a week afterwards, it seemed like a miracle. Being able to wrench the gun from the thug and use it on him was certainly a feat he didn't think he could repeat anytime soon. In a matter of seconds he had been out on the roof talking to Matt on the secure cell phone. Of all the times he had so proudly refused Max' help, this had been the one where he would have given anything to have her next to him. 

Luck, it had been pure luck. Had the man not been alone, had the exoskeleton not been on, had he not had the transfusion from Joshua.... But all the ifs finally got reduced to one thing. If Max hadn't dropped in that night to steal the statue, he would have been dead years ago. Weird, the universe *was* right on schedule. Maybe he should trust that better times would come. It certainly looked as if the informant net had been awfully busy, even without him around.


	16. Forgotten shadows

Part sixteen Forgotten shadows 

AN: Sorry, Sternite, I was just in the middle of updating when ffnet crashed. Everytime somebody said „I accidentally deleted a part" I used to think, how can you „accidentally delete"? I mean, you get asked if you are sure you want to do it. And then you have to save the changes. Well, all my wisdom was no help. I accidentally deleted my declaration of war –and I really wanted to keep that one. Don't ask me how I did it, the computer froze and I hit several keys and the mouse at once and then it almost crashed and then it was gone... Since it was written in the spur of the moment, I don't have a copy of it. Oh, well... The idea still stands. In their latest interview, JA&MW said that Cameron might indeed do a DA movie. Well, we need to convince him of that, don't we ?

And if you were wondering what had happened with this fic or with the other, on Thursday I'll be done with my huge research paper (60 pages) so after then I'll be happily posting. That is, if you want me to, I'm happy just writing them (grin).

**The moment she had entered the musty prison rooms he had known he should be remembering her from somewhere. But from where? Searching the convoluted paths of his faulty memory he  saw in front of him a hospital corridor.**

**„Do I know you ?"**

**„No, I don't think so."**

**She had lied to him. Why? And then Buddy had called out „Max!" and fragments of long forgotten memories flashed before him. A red balloon. Hand signals. Snow. Running. Her hair covering her eyes. "The biggest threat to her safety is you." A quiet evening by the fireplace. „X5-599, I've got a heart for you."**

**Most of it he couldn't make sense of. That was something he should be taking care of later. Right now he needed to find a way to escape the 20 armed soldiers that had suddenly appeared from the brush.**

*****

**Shaking and shivering she climbed a tree and tried to jump to the next one, so the dogs she heard barking behind her would lose her trace. The next branch. Yes. Another one. Damn. It had given way and falling down she barely managed to grab onto another one before another seizure shook her. Maybe it was best if she stayed up here.**

*****

**Five soldiers were strewn around him like mangled rag-dolls and he hadn't even broken into a sweat. He had noticed his higher than normal stamina and his muscle power before, when working on the farm or picking up bar fights and now he saw he had quite a few nifty fighting tricks up his sleeve. But what use was that, if the fifteen remaining soldiers had all cocked their guns on him and were just waiting for his slightest move to serve him with another bullet. The one that had already pierced his arm had almost gone unnoticed. It had hit metal. **

**Metal ? Damn! What was going on? Over his head he could hear helicopters closing in but he refrained from looking up. Instead he picked one soldier who looked a bit distracted by the noise above and charged on him. He might have no gun, but the soldiers hadn't killed him yet. Maybe they wanted him alive. He wouldn't go down without a good fight.  **

*****

**She hadn't counted on being spotted so soon. Those dogs must have been really good. Oh well, they had probably smelled cat. She jumped towards the next tree but never reached it, her body fell down with a sickening plump, pierced by several tranquilizer darts.**

*****

Just a few more and he would be out free. Too bad he could only use one arm. The other one had gone limp on him a while ago. Unreliable biotronic parts, damn them to hell. Where had that come from ? 

**He didn't have the time to find out, a solid net suddenly enveloped him and tazers made every shred of consciousness fade away.**

*******

**Sheriff Coulter approached the imposing man with the walkie-talkie just as the two prisoners were carried to a helicopter.**

**„Incredible what just two of them could do in such a short time !" As the man seemed to look through him, a bored expression on his hard planed face, he cut the niceties and tried to get to the essentials: **

**„Don't get me wrong here, I'm mighty glad you got them off my back, but I need to know what to write in my report. Covert operations units picked them up and vanished? **

**I need a name, a military base, something."**

**„White, Ames White." **

**„I might need more. Organization ?"**

**„That's all you'll get for now. You will be debriefed later today. If you don't like it, you can complain to your superiors."**

** „What about the couple who escaped?" **

**„Those are no concern of mine. It's a wrap up, men, let's move."**

*****

Coulter craned his neck looking after the sleek black shadows that had vanished into the clouds just as mysteriously as they had appeared. He sighed and got into his jeep, heading for his office or what had remained of it. 

Everything had happened so fast he had barely had the time to understand much. First a lynch mob finding a transgenic among their own and then these uncommunicative bozos just picking them up after a hell of a fight and literally disappearing with them into thin air. 

Well, after all, as a sheriff he had just done his duty requesting backup for a transgenic situation. Turned out one of them was wanted in Seattle, possibly for murder. However, he had not known they would show up so quickly. Whatever. He had pulled it off all right, maybe there would be a commendation in it soon.

**The last thing he had expected was another group of suit clad city folks waiting for him in front of the station. **

**„Sheriff Coulter ? They're not in the cells, don't tell me you've lost them already."**

**What did this young prick want ? **

**„And who might you be, young man ?"**

**„White, Ames White is the name. And you, mister, are in deep shit."**


	17. Where the bodies lie buried

****

Part seventeen 

Looking for where the bodies lie buried

Sebastian bobbed his head. Not like he could do much else, either, even though right now he felt like spinning around and laughing like a madman. He settled for a jaw spreading grin and closed his eyes in relief. He had already feared he would have to take the matter into his own hands. The only problem was that he couldn't use those and frankly, looking for someone to do the dirty jobs implied way too many dangers and unknown factors. He hated those. But he loved figuring things out and the work of the last three days had finally yielded the results he had hoped for. 

As far as he knew Logan, it would have taken either someone to turn him in or an incredible stroke of bad luck to lead to the demise presented in the news. The man had always liked things well planned and Sebastian couldn't bring himself to think that his friend had changed into a moron overnight. A depressed, despondent, suicidal slob at times, but having survived to tell about the terrible times he had been through, there was just no way he would throw Eyes Only away through carelessness. Not now anyway, when things got tough and Eyes Only was needed. After all, Sebastian had called him just a day before everything blew up, letting him know they were on his tail and he had promised to skip town as soon as possible.

The three lines Sebastian could see on his computer screen were the reason for his elation. The address where extremely expensive voice distortion equipment had been delivered. Not in an one piece delivery, mind you, just the most important part. It had taken full of three days to search for recent sales of electronic devices someone would need to set up Eyes Only again. He had done it partly because he wanted to be informed if he would have to set up things himself, partly because he fervently hoped he wouldn't need to. And anyway, it wasn't like he had much else to do with his time, either. 

Sebastian had very soon become lost in the maze of bulk online orders, different delivery companies and even overseas shipment. Most of the pieces he had searched for he had lost trace of in the incredibly convoluted operations. The delivery chain included at times even several nonidentifiable customers. But this time he had hit the jackpot. No, the person or persons ordering had made no mistake, it probably wasn't the last shipment place either, just the one before the last. 

This one address Sebastian knew as if it had been his own. Not likely he would ever forget Logan's and his college friend in San Francisco, nor the way he had died 6 years ago. He tried in vain to chase away the bitter memories, concentrating on the good news. Yes! Logan had always been the best for the job and the last events could only prove that. He was alive and kicking, literally. 

But memories couldn't be switched off at will, even if he wished for it with all his might, sometimes even praying they could have been erased with the rest of his bodily functions. He just couldn't wipe it away, neither the night they had met Chad in a Yale campus bar, nor the day, several years later, when Logan had come over in a fit of anger, dead set to bring Eyes Only into existence.

****

Flashback 

***********

"Yes father, I know." 

"No, you are not right, but you don't believe me anyway." 

Too late, he hung up. 

My dorm room in Yale is the perfect place to sulk. Dad has just chewed me out on the phone, for the hundredth time this month. Our company had lost almost everything in the aftermath of the pulse, being that we dealt in computer hardware. For some warped reason dad blames me. He always does that, nothing I can ever achieve being good enough for him. Not as long as I'm just a computer geek, running away from the wealthy socialites my parents always surround themselves with. 

I have always had a hard time dealing with people, a computer is so much more predictable. It can't hurt you, can't talk back or even yell and in the end it can only do what you tell it to do, never more. I just don't like people that much, so what? As long as I have managed to rebuild the company from its ashes, change its profile from the hardware parts my father had started with to software, I think I have paid my dues to society and to my family as well. If only I could make that clear to my dad. Probably not anytime soon.

That's what I'm good at, programming, even hacking, but I would never admit to that. Not to my father, who today told me again he wished I were more like Logan. Handsome rogue, adventurous, women lying at his feet. Like Logan of all people. Logan who had one day found me hacking and made fun of me weeks after. The same Logan who - once the picking and the jokes got old - asked me to show him how to do it. He probably just wanted to show off with it. 

Our families have known each other since we were kids, now Logan and I are in Yale together, he a senior, I a sophomore. But we never got along too well. He enjoys his life as handsome rich boy and all the advantages he can draw from that position. I hate my wealth, consider it a burden and even despise Logan a bit for his carelessness. 

"Seb ? You ready?" 

"Stop calling me that!"

Logans's head pops in, disturbing my sulking. He really is the last person I want to see right now or anytime soon for that matter. I pretend to be booting my computer, but I run out of luck. It isn't booting.

Logan looks on from behind me, grinning widely. 

"No more excuses. You're coming with me now."

"Don't you have some chick to be with?"

"I might, but first I want to talk to you over a glass of wine."

Wine. He knows I hate wine. 

"We can talk here, I don't need wine."

"Well, I do, my mouth is too dry to talk right now."

"Then we can postpone it. I'll be here tomorrow." 

Not like I can hide. No chance. He grabs my arm and drags me with him.

"Stop being a bore and just come."

I sigh and go with him. He probably feels like it is a good day for his monthly charitable action. To top it all, my state of the art computer gives up its ghost just in time for his plan. He probably did something to it. I'll have to check when I get back tonight. Well, more like tomorrow morning, the way I know Logan. 

We're headed for Logan's usual club on campus and indeed, it takes him only minutes to spot a gorgeous blonde and drag her to the dance floor, leaving me behind with a pitcher of beer I don't want to drink and no clue as to what he wanted to talk about. Probably nothing anyway. 

The usual nitpicks from the guys at the other tables start little after. 

"That beer warm enough for you?" 

"If you hold it any tighter it could start to writhe and moan." 

I'm used to it. Logan probably suspects something because he interrupts his dance and heads for our table with the blonde. But he is still far away when Tom, a huge football player, plants himself in front of me and in his drunken drawl offers his assistance:

"Methinks the boy needs some help with his beer." 

A second later the warm beer is pouring in my lap. I jump up, but before I can respond, Tom's large bulk lands a few yards away in a heap and a tall brown haired guy, quite young looking, seats himself at the table as if nothing had happened.

"Hi, I'm Chad. That guy was obstructing my view. I'm sorry, hope I didn't interrupt your discussion." 

He has a crooked grin on his face and moments later he moves over for Logan and his blonde of the night. 

"Daphne, may I present, Sebastian and...."

"Chad".

"Chad then. I'm Logan, very pleased to meet you. Nice punch, by the way." 

Around us half the club is staring but Chad and Logan start a discussion, Daphne and me soon join in, the event of the night quickly forgotten.

***********

It had been the beginning of a wonderful friendship, a very unlikely one, considering our totally different backgrounds and characters. But Chad had been uncomplicated, serious or boisterous, as the circumstances required it. Soon he had become indispensable, to both Logan and me. We wouldn't go out together much. It was mostly either Logan and him on a mad club spree or Chad and me in some crazy discussion of the world order. 

Chad had been studying Comparative literature, but he was absolutely nothing like any of us. He didn't have a penny to his name and yet he had enrolled for a major he would probably die of malnutrition with. He didn't care. He had been an uncanny mixture of an idealist and a rogue. Either way, life was a lot more fun with him around and Logan and I had started to get along better, too. Good times, now long gone.

*

So, Logan, it could only be him, had been using Chad's San Francisco address to get humpty together again. Well, well, Chad would have been proud.

Sebastian saved the address and pursed his lips. He didn't allow himself to think about the past much, about the times when - even though a computer geek - he could run around without hindrance. Chad belonged to that past. The things that had happened 2016 in San Francisco were a lot more terrible than just his health problems. That was probably why he had adjusted rather well to being a quadriplegic. He hadn't been too active, before, either. Except for that one time when Chad and him had set out on a story together, leaving Logan out of it since he had been too angry about his break up with Valerie to care about anything else. The result had been total chaos and Sebastian hated to remember it. 


	18. Wilderness retreat

****

Part eighteen

Wilderness retreat 

With heartfelt thanks to Dancinstar, my wonderful beta. ;-D

****

"Bling ?" 

Her lips formed the word but the sound that reverberated painfully through the room was not recognizable in any way, not even to her. Beverly felt like she had just climbed the Everest, but decided that opening her eyes was more important than controlling her breathing. Blinded by a very intense brightness, she shut her lids again and resigned herself to a few more minutes of rest and blissful ignorance. Or rather incapacitating anxiety. 

She moved one hand slowly at her side. The bed was hard, but there were sheets. Rough sheets, as if they had been starched. The bed, was it metal or wood ? Wood. 

Her thoughts seemed quite coherent considering the pounding in her head. Now if only that blinding supernova would just collapse in itself and fade away. 

They must have drugged her. Judging by the trouble she had with breathing, she suspected she had inhaled quite a lot of smoke, too. But from where? The last thing she could remember was taking Bling to see Logan's body. Everything was going well and then - nothing. Damn. One more try. 

"Bling ?" 

Still no response. She managed to move her legs to the side of the bed and dared to open her eyes again. It hurt, but at least she could keep them open this time.

She found herself in an incredibly sunny room furnished with a huge double bed, a desk and a chair. Kind of like a cheap motel. Right next to her was Bling, breathing evenly. Still out. Weird. He should have woken up earlier. He had more body mass, any tranquilizer would be out of his system quicker. For once she was glad her analytical side had taken over. That way she wouldn't worry too much.

She stood quite shakily and went to the window first considering the door was most likely locked. There were no curtains and judging by the brightness of the sun, this was definitely not Seattle. No buildings outside, just plain grass and trees everywhere around. Damn again. From her angle of view there were no cars to be seen. Nothing to use as an escape vehicle. However, that shouldn't be too much of a drawback if they could make it to the line of trees. Something was telling her that this was too easy, much too easy. 

"Bling ?" Her voice held a certain urgency and this time the man stirred and jumped up as if propelled by a spring. The groan followed right after. 

"Don't open your eyes yet, wait a while."

"Could ... said ... earlier", he mumbled back. Bling felt like elaborating with a few choice words, but his heavy tongue refused to comply. 

Darn it, he always managed to get himself into trouble. To be truthful, it wasn't his talent, just Logan's. Logan. That hadn't been Logan in the morgue. Bling grinned widely, aches and pains half forgotten. He might not remember much of that night, but he had felt flawless skin on the back and seen a few other details he didn't care to go into. Just thinking of that shattered bloody head made him curl his lips in disgust. But this was no time to be sick, he needed to get up now.

Seeing that Bling was at least halfway up, Beverly decided to go for the bedroom door. 

"Wait a second." 

This time Bling was fully up and grabbed the doorknob, placing himself in front of the coroner before she could try the door. Beverly couldn't help but smile at this old fashioned way of ensuring her safety. One twist and the door creaked open. 

"Incredible", Beverly whispered. "Should I stop being afraid ?"

"Not yet." 

Bling ventured out with a sudden movement and after seeing that everything was clear he motioned Beverly out. Moving carefully through the house, Bling was flabbergasted to find it empty. Nothing. There was just a hallway, a kitchen and the bathroom. The front door was locked, but that shouldn't be a problem when there were plenty of windows on the ground level.

"Is this weird or am I imagining things?"

"It is unusual." 

"This doesn't look like anybody cared whether we would run away or not." Beverly mused.

"We should get out while we still can. Anything else can wait."

"I guess so. But any way I see it, there should have been a welcoming committee."

They were still whispering, although the lack of a direct threat had allowed them to be somewhat more explicit in their communication. In fact, Beverly felt half of a theory forming in her mind.

"What do you remember last, Bling?"

"The morgue. The body. It wasn't him." 

Beverly almost jumped, her eyes shining as her annoyance with Bling's lack of interest in the mystery waned. 

"Are you sure ?" 

"Positive. However, that doesn't necessarily mean he is still alive, just that that was not his body.

But that's the least of my worries now. Still have your cell phone ? Even if we get out, there is no sign of a car. It might take a while to get away."

It irked her that Bling was more interested in getting out than in solving the mystery, but she glanced around, looking for some means of communication. There weren't many places to hide things. She soon came back empty handed. 

"It's gone, even the beeper." 

"Mine too."

Every concern they might have had suddenly became inconsequential. The sound of a car approaching sent a rush of adrenaline surging through both of them. With two swift moves, Bling dismembered an already frail-looking chair and turned, motioning Beverly to hide. To his surprise, the coroner had already positioned herself to the right of the entrance door, her hands behind her back. 

Clutching a chair leg in his large fist, Bling took her place behind the door. With a stern look he sent Beverly behind a tall kitchen cupboard. A car door slammed. Sending one last look of reassurance to Beverly, Bling took a deep breath. He almost choked on it a second later, though, losing his concentration. Beverly had grabbed a large frying pan and was swinging it back and forth as if on a tennis court. The loud click of the lock brought the seriousness of the situation crashing down on them. Bling concentrated again and Beverly swiftly retreated to her hiding place. 

It all happened so fast, they would be barely able to remember it afterwards. The slender, young man entering was no match for Bling's raw muscle power combined with the element of surprise. He might have had a chance of escaping the neck lock he found himself in after the first step into the house. However, all hope must have been lost the moment a heavy object collided with the back of his head in a manner only an expert coroner could apply. 

Still breathing heavily with the effort of holding the previously struggling body, Bling felt for his nose that had been on the receiving end of a right hook. He eyed Beverly strangely. It didn't occur to him that he had backed away a step.

"Nice job!" Bling panted.

"Right back at you." 

A few seconds passed before they were able to concentrate on the intruder again. Technically they were the intruders, but Beverly dismissed the thought in outrage. Whoever had brought them here and locked them in could have said something first before sending them to lalaland to dream off their worries.

"Now what?"

"Can you find something to tie him up with ?" Bling proceeded to search the man, but all he could find was a gun and a coded cell phone.

"You found a phone!" Beverly exclaimed, already feeling better as she handed Bling a sturdy piece of rope.

"It's not much use, though." Bling remarked. "It's locked. I can neither call nor answer unless I punch in a password. I've seen those things before. I can't crack the code, not without the proper equipment". 

Working together in companionable silence they tied the man up and heaved him up on an old couch. Just as Bling was about to voice some of the nagging thoughts that had haunted him for the past minute, the cell phone they had swiped started ringing madly. 

Beverly drew closer, trying to figure out a way to answer the annoying cell. As she stood on tiptoe, head bent over Bling's arm, she became aware of the way he suddenly tensed and frowned.

"What?"

As if on cue, a phone started ringing from somewhere.

"This is beyond weird", Beverly whispered as she went looking for the phone they had obviously not noticed before. 

Bling finally found it under the couch and answered, trying to keep his voice as neutral and low key as possible.

"Yes?" 

Silence.

One more try. 

"Hello?"

This time somebody answered on the other end:

"Hey Bling, are you guys ok?"

Bling's mouth gaped open for a few seconds and Beverly tensed, fearing for his sanity. What followed next made her alternately blush and smile. 

"Fucking bastard! When I see you, you better have a doctor handy to pick up the pieces."

It was the first time in a very long while that Bling's temper went overboard like that. Years of working as a PT had trained him to be patient and not loose his cool, not even with the pissiest of his charges - to which category Logan surely belonged. He had surprised even himself with the violence of his outburst. Trying to calm down, he let himself fall on the kitchen chair and concentrated on the happy thought of hearing Logan's voice.

"Yeah, we're fine. Where are you, you all right, man?"

"It's kind of complicated right now, but yeah, things are looking up."

"Ok, then how about telling us where we are?" 

The otherwise barely noticeable crackling of the practically antique phone lines seemed to suddenly become thunderous. 

"Logan, are you still there?"

"Bling, calm down, you're somewhere just outside of L.A. The guy who got you there went out on an errand and got himself a tail, so he is playing hide and seek right now, and can't come back for you yet."

"Ummm... I think you're not up to date on that part."

"What do you mean ?"

"Well, is it a brown haired guy, rather young, athletic, with a strong right hook ?

"Sounds like him. Is he there? Why didn't he answer?"

"He's still out. He'll be up soon, we just need to untie him and give him some ice." Before Logan could answer or ask more questions, Bling charged on:

"California, huh? Man I'm awfully glad you are well, but you have it coming big time. Is that why you got us to L.A. in the first place, nice and far away?"

"That's part of it. Seattle is definitely not the place to be right now. Listen, I'm sorry. It wasn't like I planned it this way. You were just caught in the middle of things when Matt started to clean up the loose ends. Your move took me by surprise, you know." 

"Look who's talking. Loose ends, hm ? Lots of those left behind. So, what now ?"

"Bling, do you think you can keep Dr. Shankar out of it?"

"Not likely, man, Beverly is ok, she's right next to me."

Bling felt like giving his ex-employer a trashing over the phone but reminded himself in time that the least everybody knew the better it was. 

"Then you'll have to sit tight for a while, Bling, at least until I can get you set up with new papers. Stetter will hopefully be up soon. Until then, the fridge should be full."

"That reminds me, you have contacted Max, haven't you ?"

"Bling, say "hi" to Beverly for me, I have to go, call you later." 

"Logan? Logan!"

"I should have known, he hung up on me. Man, when I get my hands on him..."

Bling was relieved and mad at the same time. Logan wasn't his employer anymore, he could have shown a bit more tact. Besides, all this could only mean that the job at the clinic outskirts of Seattle was gone. For good. Probably Beverly's job as well. Wonderful. But then, Logan probably was up to his neck in trouble, more so than Beverly and he. And anyway, California sounded much better than Seattle right now. Neither he nor Beverly had any family left, not as far as he knew. Gotta look at the bright side. 

"What's up, is he ok ?"

"You heard it, he said to sit tight, the fridge is full, then he hung up. I wish I knew where he was. At least the guy on the couch is a friend."

"No answers to our questions?"

"None whatsoever. Not likely that we'll get any soon, either."

Beverly settled into the next chair, only mildly disappointed. She could add two and two together herself, after all. It was as she had suspected. Eyes Only was alive and well and had made his presence known to them, even if unwillingly. All the secrecy barely bothered her. Who wanted to be hunted down in Seattle when they could enjoy an Eyes Only wilderness retreat right outside of sunny LA? 

She smiled warmly at Bling, trying to chase away any misgivings he might still have:

"Then we should do as he says, shouldn't we ?"


	19. Logan, I've got bad news

Part nineteen  
  
Logan, I've got bad news  
  
AN: As always, lots of thanks to Dancinstar for betaing. Just in case you were wondering - this little piece decided to write itself after I had already posted the M&Z part. Sorry, really, but who am I to mess with my muse? So I'll just put it here and hope that the moment things get confusing plotwise you might backtrack and find it. Hey, look at the bright side of things: at least you were spared a cliffhanger.  
  
Logan was in a funk. Two days ago, amidst the mess his life had turned into, he had finally remembered Zack and the danger the X5 might be in. Immediately he had rushed to his sources for information, ready to jump to the rescue. Hearing that he was eight, DAMN, eight days too late reminded him sorely that the new Eyes Only was not what he had once been.  
  
How could it even be different? His job occupied most of his daytime, reducing him to night activities for the missions. He had barely any money left, faulty equipment, no real friends around, and most of all, no in- house cat burglar. No Max to tease him out of his huffs or beat his sorry ass at a merciless game of chess. It could have been worse, though. Hell, it was worse, because Max, instead of minding her own business, had gone for Zack all by herself and now they were both missing.  
  
When he had heard the story of how White had been left empty-handed, he had laughed out loud, causing Matt to wonder about his sanity. At the time he had thought anything would be better than White. But now, two days later, doubts had given way to panic. He still hadn't found out who had Max, but an informant had called to set up a meet, claiming he had information on her whereabouts. That was why he was here, in a deserted warehouse just outside of San Francisco, disregarding his gut feelings about the new snitch and his motivations.  
  
Carefully feeling his way through the dark warehouse, Logan thanked the heavens and everybody else responsible for his ability to walk. When a plank creaked under his less than nimble foot, though, he almost took it all back. The sudden rush of little feet around him didn't help either. Rats. It certainly wasn't the first and probably not the last time he crawled through dark spaces after nightfall, but tonight, his worry for Max had him unnerved. He ignored the rodents, continuing his way to the back door of the warehouse where his informant would hopefully be waiting for him. There he was, a long shadow on the opposite wall.  
  
"I'm here. What was so important it couldn't be sent over normal channels?"  
  
"I ain't sure what's going on here, with Eyes being back from the dead and all. I want my share first."  
  
Logan reached into his pocket and reluctantly pulled out a wad of bills. "Here, you'll get the rest once we've verified the intel. And for your information, Eyes Only is not back from the dead. My boss took over from him. Got it?"  
  
"Whatever you say, man. Here, catch!" A rather heavy envelope landed safely in Logan's hands.  
  
"Where did you get this from?"  
  
"Ya know how it goes. The friend of a friend of a friend. Lost track."  
  
Logan considered pressing the matter, but the uncanny feeling of being watched wouldn't let go of him. Plus, the snitch had become quite nervous, too. The man had just turned on his heel to get away, when Logan's strong hand grabbed his collar and squeezed enough to make him squirm.  
  
"Thanks for these. Next time you'd better stick to the plan if you want your money. Don't forget to hang around your usual place in case I need more information."  
  
"Right," the man babbled and took off, stumbling through the darkness.  
  
Damn, Logan cursed silently. The sinking feeling that this meet had been a mistake wouldn't leave him. And it wasn't over yet. He moved away from his previous spot at the door and considered making a quick getaway. Instead, he found himself a hiding place and took a peak at the contents of the envelope. He froze in shock. Out tumbled dozens of pictures of Max and Zack, unconscious, strapped to their respective beds, and surrounded by medical equipment. Logan's hands shook slightly and he gulped. He would have punched the wall in anger, but the despair he felt seemed to weigh down his body to the point he almost sunk to the ground, all thoughts about his current situation forgotten.  
  
This was her worst nightmare come true! Logan tried to quickly finger through the pictures, but soon stopped, dreading the last few ones. What if they showed her dead?  
  
They didn't. But they might as well have. Somebody was messing with her implant. 


	20. Bad case of mission creeps

Part twenty  
  
Bad case of mission creeps  
  
  
  
"Max..."  
  
"Max, get up!"  
  
"X5-452, on your feet!"  
  
Max woke with a start. Her upper body reflexively moved forward and several muscles protested when they met with the resistance of solid leather handcuffs. Her senses flared with a flood of information as her brain kickstarted itself into action. She was lying in a hospital-type bed, needles and IV lines poking out of her, the pungent smell of chemicals invading her nostrils. The nagging hunger she felt in her stomach only added to her already darkening mood. To top it all off, she felt dizzy and her limbs weighed a ton.  
  
At her right side, a metal bed screeched as its occupant woke in a similarly abrupt manner. Zack. Just when she thought this nightmare couldn't get any worse, a man entered her limited range of vision and leaned over her and Zack. It was her own personal Antichrist: Lydecker.  
  
"You!" she rasped, still slightly groggy. "It's good to know they taught resurrection classes at Manticore."  
  
"Not my fault you butted out early," Lydecker snarled.  
  
But Max had better things to do than let his snide comments distract her. "Care to enlighten us on why we're here?"  
  
Lydecker pressed his lips together in a grimace that could have been described as half a smile. But before he could respond, an orderly entered and pulled him aside.  
  
Max dared to glance towards Zack, although she knew it was tactically unwise to divert her eyes from the enemy even for one second. Right now it didn't matter, though. Lydecker seemed to have forgotten about them and was all caught up in a whispered discussion with the newcomer. Weird. Just moments ago he was yelling at her to get up.  
  
She yanked herself off the metal bed she was restrained to, but the shackles didn't give way. One look at Zack told her that he hadn't had any luck with his either.  
  
She had to wonder how much her thick-skulled brother remembered.  
  
"Zack ?"  
  
While she tried to get a response from him, Max could almost see a blonde woman's head flashing in front of them, thin lips curled in disgust:  
  
"State your designation, soldier!"  
  
As if he had had the same flashback, Zack blurted out in a reflex:  
  
"X5-599."  
  
Max cringed, thinking of the last time she had heard that. "Cut the Manticore crap! It's "Zack" and I could care less if you believe me or not. All that matters is getting out."  
  
Catching herself return to bitch mode, Max wasted only one moment feeling sorry for Zack. She promised herself she would show him all the sisterly feelings she had for him once they were clear of this mess.  
  
The bitch might have been back, but one glance at her fellow X5 told her Zack was still the better soldier, with or without his memories of Manticore. While she had spent the time mulling over things, he had managed to yank one arm free: the metal one. The soft, lost look of Adam was gone. His eyes were piercing cold again, those of a soldier through and through. Max sighed inwardly. What the heck had she expected? One of those eyes was bionic anyway.  
  
Her musings were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a disturbance. She could discern gunshots, yelling, and the smell of smoke, all coming from somewhere outside the windowless room. Lydecker was back, too, looking thoroughly pissed.  
  
"Max, Zack, you need to take it easy."  
  
Zack remembered enough to know this man was the enemy, but one second of hesitation was all it took for Max to cut in.  
  
"Then why don't you just tell us why we're here?"  
  
Lydecker looked genuinely disappointed: "You still don't trust me?" "Must be a part of my kick-ass genes".  
  
"White was about to capture you. You wouldn't have been able to escape, not with your bout of seizures and his faulty memory."  
  
Max was not about to silently swallow all the lies he dished out.  
  
"You couldn't have known about the seizures until you caught me. So what's really up?"  
  
"White wants his son back, and then he wants you dead. You and everybody else from Manticore, me included. As I've already said more than once: the enemy of my enemy..."  
  
"I think I've heard that one once too often. But I still don't get it. I'm the only one that knows where his kid is, now that Logan's gone. White needs me alive. Where do you fit in the picture?"  
  
"I want to stay alive and maybe salvage something of my life's work in the process." Lydecker's cold eyes were puzzling, even to Max.  
  
"Right. If that's all there is to it, then I'm the queen of Manticore. So if you're not going to tell us the truth, at least you could untie us."  
  
The noises outside seemed to get louder and Lydecker grew impatient. He bent over Max, getting uncomfortably close for her taste.  
  
"You need to do the unthinkable, Max, you need to trust me. You've done it before."  
  
"And look where it got me."  
  
The cocky grin Max sported irked him to the point of rage. "Max, I went through a lot of trouble to get rid of your implant. Renfro wanted it there as means to track you down. I took it out. Why would I do that if I had a hidden agenda?"  
  
She instinctively reached for her neck and felt the tender spot under her barcode.  
  
"How? It's impossible."  
  
He had known this would faze her; in fact, he had been saving it as the last argument in this complicated game they had been playing. Too bad it had stopped being a game a while ago. "I don't have time for this. It was complicated, but we had the right motivation. You were both sedated for the ten days it took to pull out the implant and stabilize your nervous system. At one point we even had to transfuse you with Zack's blood, letting the nanocytes do the rest. But anyway, bedtime stories are for obedient little soldiers. Who do you trust more, me or White ?"  
  
For a moment, Max was too caught up in her confusion to answer and then it all went down in a blur. Lydecker's walkie-talkie beeped and he rushed out, shouting an order at them: "Stay put!"  
  
What the hell was going on ? He had removed the implant? He could have killed her in the process! How could she trust him when he hadn't even asked her if she wanted to die yet? On the other hand, it was good to know there would be no more seizures. While the tryptophan problem had been solved during her last stay in Manticore, the seizures generated by the implant had been worse than any of her other health issues.  
  
Now Lydecker had just disappeared, ordering them around like in the old times. Damn him! Who knew what else he had done to them in ten days. Ten days! They needed to get out. This instant!  
  
Zack kept his gaze on her as he worked on freeing his other arm. She glared back, challenging him and only peripherally taking note of the additional leather straps at his ankles and the electrodes dangling over his bed.  
  
"You are reckless. I don't trust you", he coldly whispered.  
  
Had he ever ? This kept getting better and better. At this rate she'd have her old, bitchy CO back in no time. She hid her frustration expertly.  
  
"Hate to disappoint you, bro, but you have to. At least until we get out of this mess."  
  
Max decided it was easier to break off the bed handles than the shackles. One last yank and she was free. Well, there were the metal hinges dangling at her arms, but those didn't count.  
  
She approached Zack and looked him in the eyes as she helped him pull free, too: "I'm in your unit, remember ?"  
  
With that, the matter was settled for both of them. There was a fight raging on outside. Whoever the fighting parties were, this looked like the perfect opportunity for an escape and evade scenario.  
  
Regardless of the shackles, the room appeared to be more of an infirmary than a cell. The door was solid, but all things considered, Max felt incredibly calm. She had been in worse situations.  
  
As if on cue, both X5s took three steps back and rammed full force into the door. Only Max winced when her shoulder connected with the hard surface and a slight dizziness made her stagger. Though neither of them stopped their assault. Still, Max would have gladly traded her aching shoulder, the spinning room and the Neanderthal op methods for a decent lock picking kit.  
  
The door finally gave way with a loud crash and the two transgenics had to duck to dodge a few flying bullets.  
  
"Wish I knew what they're fighting for so fiercely."  
  
"I'd say they took a look at you and decided they wanted a piece", she quipped. Seeing his dumbfounded look, she elaborated: "I'd bet they're fighting over us. I wish I knew whose side we're on."  
  
"Our side", Zack cut her short and led the way down a corridor towards a large door.  
  
Max tried to take a look at the few fallen men they were passing, but Zack was pushing her onward and unfortunately, he was right. Whoever had been keeping them hostage, probably Lydecker's men, were losing the fight. It looked like Lydecker's side was wearing regular army clothing, while the other had more sophisticated combat equipment. She couldn't help wondering how her nemesis had gotten hold of the men, the guns and the two helicopters she could see outside.  
  
Zack stopped to swipe a gun from a dead body as Max feverishly tried to do an inventory of her enemies: White, Behrens, the senator, and whatever was left of Manticore, if there was even anything worth mentioning. Who would have the firepower? And the motivation? For all she knew, all those enemies could be working together.  
  
And why would Lydecker want them alive? Besides fatherly pride that is. The only solution she could see was that Lydecker had some hidden agenda. There was no way for him to deploy at least two dozen men to fight unless there was a substantial gain. And now Lydecker was fighting White or Behrens or some special force at the senator's heel for two measly transgenics. It all meant they were worth it. That was good enough for her ego. They would have to help their nemesis, at least until they could find out more.  
  
When Zack shoved a gun in her hand she dropped it as if it had been melting hot. She didn't care about his angry look. She didn't pick it up, either, but followed her former CO as he gave her fire cover and they stealthily made their way out. Since when had he become the CO again and she the rebel thinker ?  
  
The blast of a nearby explosion threw her forcefully into a metal door, cutting short all thoughts not related to the situation at hand. The door handle had painfully buried itself into her. Time to kick some ass and leave the deep thinking to someone else. Too bad there was no one to help her piece the puzzle together. Not anymore.  
  
Zack suddenly stopped at a corner and signed to her to get ready. That she did, almost becoming one with the concrete surface she leaned on. The helmeted man approaching at a fast run never saw it coming. She effortlessly kicked the gun out of his hand and sent him flying into the next wall.  
  
This time it was Zack who approached the soldier in an effort to find out more.  
  
"Who are you working for?"  
  
Incoherent mumbling was the only response.  
  
"For the last time tell me who you're working for!" He picked up a large package out of the man's backpack.  
  
"Colonel ... Behrens..."  
  
That threw her one step back in her reasoning. Lydecker had said White wanted them. But these men were working for Behrens. She was missing something in the picture and she didn't like it, not one bit. They needed to talk to Lydecker again.  
  
Zack kicked the soldier again and the man passed out.  
  
"What did you do that for?" Max spat at him. Instead of an answer, Zack threw the package at her. It was a state of the art bomb with a timer. Set to three minutes and counting down.  
  
Damn! They needed Lydecker! Too bad Zack had other ideas. He started sprinting towards an emergency exit door and she had no choice but to follow him or be left behind. They half ran, half stumbled out, several soldiers on their tail.  
  
Zack kept shooting as they ducked for cover behind a tree.  
  
"Zack, stop right now!"  
  
"What?" he barked. "Can't you see I'm busy ? I'd like to get out of here alive, if that's all right with you." . Max ignored his failed attempt at a rebuff. "We need to get back to Lydecker. There are too many questions. If we help him, he might..."  
  
Her plea was cut short by several explosions resounding from the building they had just left. As Max could see, the explosions had grown in number as well as in intensity.  
  
"You want back, Max? Be my guest. I'm heading to that chopper over there before everything falls on our heads." He had wanted to add that he would forcibly carry her over his shoulder to their ride. But something told him to stop his bark right there and let her decide for herself. He could still knock her out if she didn't make the right decision. Or so he thought.  
  
This time, she accepted the gun he handed her and started shooting in the general direction of their pursuers while Zack warmed the big bird up. But time was running short. More men came running out of the building, or what was left of it, and headed for the chopper in a mad sprint. Quite a few of them kept shooting.  
  
"Max, the chopper is secured to the ground ! Get those ropes untied--now!"  
  
She fired a few more shots and bent to detach the ropes from the rings embedded in the cement. She missed her mark, though, when two bullets hit simultaneously and propelled her to her knees.  
  
"Max? Max, get in!" Four of the helmeted soldiers had almost reached them when another explosion shook the ruins of the building.  
  
She was cradling one arm to her chest while her other unfastened the rope securing the chopper to the ground.  
  
"Max, grab my hand!"  
  
Noticing that she was unresponsive, Zack extended his arm out of the cabin and yanked her in as the vehicle took off.  
  
"Max? Are you OK?" Looking at her slumped over at his side, he felt a pang of guilt and despair. They had taken off in time. But now what? Where could they go?  
  
"Max?"  
  
She barely heard him. She could however hear the rush of blood in her ears, could feel it leave her body in spurts. Her head slid downwards on the cold, damp glass of the window, while her mind wandered off to happier moments from long ago.  
  
  
  
AN: Sorry to have you waiting for such a long time with this story. The whole thing will be taking a sharp turn soon and I had to make sure I got everything right. Once again, a huge box of virtual chocolate and lots of thanks go to my awesome beta, Dancinstar. Apart from that, she also deserves all the credit for the Z/M transfusion idea. Thanks! 


	21. Tiger by the Tail

Part 21  
  
Catching a Tiger by the Tail  
  
AN: Finally, here it is. The next parts will be up quicker. As always, lots of thanks to Dancinstar for the beta.  
  
Once he had recovered from the shock, Logan had tried to convince himself that Max was still alive, that she.that *they* would find a way out of this one, too. Now his mind was feverishly searching for solutions.  
  
Clutching the car keys in his left hand, Logan used his right to bring up a phone number he had finally found after endless struggles, cases of mistaken identities and sessions of prodding Matt. There was no way of knowing if it would still be valid, or if the owner observed Manticore rules as religiously as most of the other X5s, changing numbers and phones when fancy struck. But as he reached his car, Logan changed his mind and pocketed the phone with a swift move. First of all, he needed to know all the details. Only then would he call Alec. Though they'd need to act fast if Max.  
  
Rage suddenly gripped Logan and he slammed the door shut with a force that rattled the poor excuse for a window. Why in the blazes was Alec not with Max, helping her out? Damn that selfish.  
  
A movement in the back seat startled Logan out of his angry fit and made him freeze in a defenseless position, both his hands on the wheel. The man behind the driver's seat moved forward, rigid lips forcing themselves open to emit a broken sounding chuckle.  
  
"It was you after all!"  
  
Logan gulped at the sound of the well-known voice, speechless.  
  
"Life is such a cheep commodity these days, but you're one tough SOB!" the raspy voice continued with gurgling sounds.  
  
"Why don't you speak for yourself?" Logan retorted angrily. He didn't like being surprised, least of all by a man who felt so at home in somebody else's car. Or in Max' life for that matter.  
  
Logan's grip on the wheel tightened as he tried to figure out if it was a good or a bad thing to have Lydecker in his back seat. A rather drunken sounding - Logan looked in the mirror to double check - yes, a drunken sounding, bleeding, gun swinging, pissed off Lydecker. It didn't take Logan long to relax, though. There were worse things. He should probably have gotten used to the creepy bastard popping out of nowhere when he least expected him.  
  
"What happened to you?" Logan asked.  
  
"Looong story. Better drive home, I need a drink."  
  
"Home?" Did Lydecker know where he lived?  
  
"Someplace nice and cozy." he drawled.  
  
"I'm not moving an inch before you tell me how you found me." Logan was pissed. This was bad, very bad. It wouldn't be a wise choice to take the ex- Manticore colonel to Eyes Only's new home.  
  
So instead, Logan attempted to duck and open his door, but as drunken as he was, Lydecker caught on and waved his gun at him.  
  
"Don't even think about that. Just drive."  
  
Weighing the pros and cons of getting shot at such a close range, Logan decided any radical action would have to wait. Max needed him. He drove off, considering stopping at the safe house. But that would only mean he'd lose precious time in the search for Max.  
  
Lydecker and his timing! He'd take him home, consequences be damned. After searching for the man for almost a full year, Logan didn't want to let him disappear again. A few more glasses of that scotch in Chad's stash and old Lydecker would spill it all.  
  
*  
  
One full bottle of scotch later, Lydecker seemed to have sobered up instead of cracking. Logan sighed. He'd underestimated the old fox for the last time. Maybe seeing him with that lost look on his face and two heavily bleeding wounds in his right arm had made him forget that this was the man who had educated several generations of relentless soldiers in the spirit of Manticore.  
  
Lydecker was playing around with a half-full glass of the golden liquid, quietly staring off into space. Logan's patience was wearing thin. If he wasn't talking, then.He needed to call Alec. Now. Logan made a move to stand up, still a little stiff and sore at the joints, when Lydecker's eyes focused and met his.  
  
'Sit. I need your help." 


	22. Mind over Matter

AN: As always, thanks to Dancinstar for her help and encouragement. Darkness mentioned the fact that I seem to like ghost stories way too much. Oh well… Winks to DarkEyes. I toned it down this time. 22. Mind over Matter 

Zack made an effort to concentrate. Piece by piece, the puzzle of his life was falling into place, but the flashbacks were impeding his ability to fly the chopper securely. Having Max drifting in and out of consciousness next to him didn't help, either. He had been able to quell the blood flow, but he couldn't even think of helping her while they were still in the air. 

He remembered that he had saved her countless times, saved her from throwing away her freedom. He had even let himself be captured for her. 

The noise of the chopper cut through the silence, enveloping him. Lydecker! Maybe they should have stayed at the base to find out more, but after everything the Colonel had done to him, to them, there was only one instinct left. Flight. Max had chosen to stay. But he couldn't. Manticore had taught him all about the moment when the risk is higher than the possible gain, when a CO needs to cut his losses and regroup. This had been it. 

He yanked at the flight controls, turning their vehicle sharply to the left. He could hear only one pursuer, which meant they still had a chance, especially if they could make it to the woods at the outskirts of the city on the left.

„Max!" Zack tried to wake her. Adrenaline was quickly suffusing his system, making him dizzy with excitement.

„Where is Max? Why have you sacrificed yourself for her?" Lydecker's voice droned in his ears.

Damn Lydecker! „Go away! Leave us be!" He heard himself shouting at his CO. Or was it former CO? It occurred to him that something was off about the whole situation, but what was it?

Zack heard the other chopper coming closer. If he could only outmaneuver it over that hill...it might crash. He felt cornered and tried to control his anger, his panic. They couldn't get Max. No! Another sharp turn, now a drop, trees were suddenly closing in, on the left and on the right, in front of him, under him....above, the noise of the chopper hounding them resounded in his ears. Zack turned for the trees again. He would have to crash it. 

"Max!" Why wasn't she waking up?

They were heading for the trees at a mad speed while the sound of the chopper hammered into his brain and Lydecker's voice came closer and closer, booming in his ears, mingling with other voices, desperate and beseeching.

„Where are they?"

„Status?"

*

Max was trying to fight off the lingering haze of sleep, the dizziness and the temptation to drift off again. She knew she had to get back, to get her act together. She was needed out there. But by whom? That was a mystery her brain hadn't decided to unravel yet. 

And then she saw him, warm eyes gazing at her in concern, just like the time she had laid on his couch, seizing. Now he was standing in front of her as if nothing had happened, bending over to brush back a stray strand of her hair. 

"You'll be okay," he volunteered, as if she wanted to know that. She'd have been more relieved if she had found out she wouldn't be. At least then she wouldn't feel the guilt anymore, the guilt that weighed her down and reduced the killing machine to a whimpering shadow of a woman. Who had died and appointed him as her doctor, anyway? And then she felt crushed down into the chair, heavy with the realization of it. He had. 

Closing her eyes and opening them again, she questioned her sanity. He was still there, though, and she felt torn by conflicting emotions. She wished she could touch him, feel him, absorb him into herself, so that he could always be with her. But she also realized he didn't belong there anymore and wished he'd go away, to the place where he wouldn't have to deal with any of the mess she found herself in. 

And then there was Zack…She could hear his voice somewhere in the distance. Adrenaline pumped through her limp body.  If the X5 ever found out about Logan…

"You need to get up, Max." Logan's voice was low, demanding, and yet its firmness and lack of anger startled her. He sounded almost as if…as if he still cared. But he had always cared. About stray puppies, lost kittens and other assorted fauna, to which she surely belonged. 

By now she could think more clearly, but for the life of her, she couldn't tell what was going on or even manage to form the simplest sound.

"I need you to run an errand for me, Max. Remember, our quid pro quo?"

Two years ago, she would have snapped back a biting reply about him holding up his part of the deal. Now all she could do was look at him and nod in agreement. But the frown never left his face.

"I need it now, Max! Get up!" 

Her eyes widened at Logan's harsh tone. She blinked and found herself yelled at once again.

But this time it was Zack's face she saw, contorted in anger, mouthing something she could barely make out. That was one yelling match too much and she gathered all her strength to grab the X5 by his collar. Her hand was slightly shaking, pain radiated through her upper body, and to top it all off, she realized her raspy, unsteady voice resembled Lydecker's grim rumble more than anything else.

"Status?" 

One look out the window told her everything she needed to know.

Still in a daze from the blood loss, Max had lost precious seconds thinking she was dreaming up fall-colored woods, but now she reached for the controls in a frantic attempt to keep the chopper in the air. „Zack, lift it, now!"

Zack reflexively pulled at the controls, finally letting his instincts override his muddled thoughts. But would they have enough time? 

Trying hard not to panic, he yelled, „Jump, now!" The last thing he saw was Max reaching over to take the controls.

AN: Do I need to mention that there is a review button to your left? ;-)


	23. Don't Kill the Messenger

23. Don't kill the messenger  
  
Whatever would I do without my beta? Thanks, Dancinstar!  
Lydecker looked at the man in front of him, wondering exactly how much he needed to tell him in order to get the help he required. The help they all needed. He had a hunch it would have to be a good deal more than he had ever intended. Unless...  
  
Warily eyeing the gun he had left on the couch, Lydecker stood up and turned to Logan.  
  
"What do you need to know?" Always the best strategy when the adversary didn't know exactly which questions to ask. Logan wasn't exactly his adversary, but Lydecker wasn't about to risk revealing too much to the pain- in-the-ass do-gooder that Eyes Only was.  
  
Logan stood and approached the older man, trying hard not to appear overeager.  
  
"For starters, where have you been and how did you find me?"  
  
The grim expression on Logan's face conveyed a no-nonsense attitude that Lydecker was wise enough to take into consideration.  
  
"By chance. I've had to hire a few new people at the base I've set up and couldn't screen them all properly. Information was leaking out and I just followed the trail that led me to you."  
  
For a moment, Logan eyed him suspiciously, not buying it entirely. How come he was following a trail by himself, all drunk and beaten up? But then all the implications of his words sunk in and he tensed, clenching his hands into fists. If the pictures of Max and Zack had originally come from Lydecker.  
  
"What have you done to Max?!" Logan spoke in a low tone, but the threat in his words was evident, just as it was in the glare he was bestowing on his opponent.  
  
"I rescued her from White and proceeded to remove the implant by which he had managed to track her." Lydecker kept his cool, remembering he had the advantage of sufficient information. "She came out of it all right," he continued, sensing the rush of emotions Logan tried in vain to suppress.  
  
Logan looked relieved and for a moment Lydecker was touched. But there was no time for niceties; if he had protected her in the first place, this wouldn't have happened. Taking advantage of his adversary's weakness, he rushed on, so that Logan wouldn't have the time to think things over.  
  
"Keep the questions for later. White is looking for her and I can't keep him away too long. Since you're alive, you might as well help me get rid of him. This is what I need you to do."  
  
*  
  
Logan suddenly started up, wide awake, trying to discern something, anything, in the darkness of his new apartment. But all was quiet and only the familiar hum of the computer could be heard in the sparsely furnished room. There was no echo of any sound reverberating between the bare walls like he usually heard. There was no sign of any moving shadows like the ones that had been haunting his imagination since the penthouse incident. Once Logan's eyes got accustomed to the obscurity, he tried to make out what had cheated him of another troubled night's sleep.  
  
Lydecker! He should be dead to the world on the couch somewhere. Logan strained his hearing, not daring to move too much from the chair he was sitting in, his throbbing head half resting on his arms, for fear the last shreds of his dream of Max would desert him. This dream had been strange to say the least, nightmarishly real. Not remembering how it had ended tormented Logan to the point where he was fully alert. Where was Lydecker?  
  
Logan finally stood up, willing his aching limbs and pounding head along. Last night's planning and plotting, trying to coax Lydecker out of his shell, had born fruits. The old Manticore fox had certainly not revealed as much as Logan would have liked. Then again, it was enough for him to act on, if he followed Lydecker's orders to expose White, without leaving all the threads in the Colonel's hands. Eyes Only would have a lot to do, hacking, researching and planning.  
  
Meanwhile, there was also the issue of Max's whereabouts. Lydecker hadn't revealed much, but Logan was not about to leave Max in his hands - if the Colonel still had her, that was - for any reason, however rational and benevolent it might have been.  
  
Finally reaching the couch at the far end of the huge one-room apartment, Logan groaned with frustration. Damn! He rushed toward the only light switch available and squinted as the flash of the bare light bulb revealed the empty couch and the scribbled note that seemed to mock him.  
  
"I'll call you." 


	24. No I in Team

AN: The first anniversary of this fic came and went, as one reader pointed out, but I'm still here and the fic is, too. Thanks to Dancinstar and Milla for their comments on the next 3 parts. What else can I say, summer is here and it's once again time to post and hopefully finish this.  
  
24. No "I" in Team  
  
Zack was the first to clear his head and take in the situation. Max was sitting next to him in the passenger seat, slumped over the control board, a thin rivulet of blood seeping out of her mouth. He heaved himself out of the seat, working hard to get his right leg unstuck and rushed to get Max out of the chopper. It didn't look like it would blow soon, but that was the standard procedure. He caught himself wondering for a moment, Standard procedure for what? Discarding any thoughts unrelated to the situation, he carried her to a group of old trees that could offer shelter. Easing her down, he proceeded to assess her state. Her breathing was regular and her wounds weren't bleeding anymore, but dried blood covered most of her upper body.  
  
Zack cringed at the sight before him as it became clear to him what had happened. He had almost crashed the chopper into the trees. If it hadn't been for Max.. He listened carefully to his surroundings, mindful of any pursuers, but there was only the eerie silence of nature suddenly disturbed by man.  
  
They were in a clearing, surrounded by trees. The branches that had come down when they grazed the trees in their attempt to land were now scattered everywhere around the wrecked chopper.  
  
Otherwise, everything was quiet and Zack found himself haunted by a nagging thought. If Lydecker had been pursuing them, they wouldn't have gotten away. He had been having flashbacks of the time he had allowed himself to be arrested so that she could go to... Damn his flashbacks. Zack frowned, trying hard to remember what had happened.  
  
*  
  
He let himself be dragged to the SUV, turning back to look at her, the one he did this for. She remained behind, devastated, looking fragile and helpless. Minutes later, they were pushing him into the chopper while Lydecker watched on, a smug smile on his face. But she'd be safe, he had thought. No matter what happened to him, she'd have someone to watch over her, even if it was only that cripple. If he didn't, if he let them get her. Zack swore he'd kill him.  
  
The rotating chopper blades drowned out the noise of Lydecker shouting orders to the soldiers securing Zack on the back seat. Zack closed his eyes and let his rage make place for cold planning: two soldiers on his left and right, the pilot in the front. They took off and Zack strained his neck for one more look at Lydecker, just for the pleasure of seeing him become smaller and smaller, until he shrunk to a mere dot on the ground. Zack turned his eyes to the front again, becoming fascinated with the pilot's neck as an enigmatic smile turned a corner of his lips up.  
  
A moan from Max brought Zack back to the task at hand. He'd have to suppress these flashbacks, they were getting annoying. Still disturbed by the thought that he had lost contact with reality in a crucial moment, he gently picked Max up and headed north, carrying her as carefully as he could. According to what he could discern while in the air, there should be a city nearby where he could nurse her wounds. 


	25. You can't right every wrong

25. You can't right every wrong. but you've got to at least try  
  
Yet another one. The third journalist this week, and the transgenics.. who knew the number anymore. But this time two X series had died. Hanging up, Logan squeezed the phone in his fist, as if trying to crush it would relieve any of the anger he was feeling. He tossed it on the cluttered desk and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing the last few minutes out of his memory, wishing they would turn out to be just another of the countless bad dreams plaguing him.  
  
Rage had made his blood boil when Matt had reluctantly thrust the bad news at him. Right now, the cold, shaky hand he slid over his burning eyes was the only comfort he allowed himself as the shock slowly ebbed down, making way for anguish. How was he going to solve this one all by himself? As if there wasn't enough for him to do. Logan sighed, trying in vain to tell himself that things were at least moving along.  
  
San Francisco had always been Logan's choice of a back up plan if things ever got too hot in Seattle. But it had always been just a theoretical back up plan. Lately Logan had been forced to improvise a lot and that meant there were more possibilities of screwing up than normally. He had been inordinately lucky to be able to move into Chad's old apartment on such a short notice. Select police members and squatters had been struck by an inexplicably fortunate move of Providence, too. They now had well-padded pockets to weigh them down while they ran from their conscience. However, San Francisco was a large city and the military police were not easy on the population. For one short moment Logan's anger flared as he remembered a time when moving from one city to the other was as commonplace as going to the mall. Nowadays every city resembled a medieval stronghold. You were born in it, you died in it. No one was allowed in or out. Especially not if the government and the sector police could help it. Suddenly, the mere thought of attempting to stop any of the unfolding events appeared a foolish effort to get himself killed as Matt had admonished him.  
  
Logan sighed. Things were moving along. Just not in the direction he had envisioned. After the last few hectic days and Lydecker's visit, this phone call made matters even worse. One look at his desk made Logan's heart sink with guilt at the unfinished business he had lying around, waiting for his attention. And each minute that he passed thinking of Max' whereabouts and the possible dangers she was exposed to was a minute too much for the other people who counted on him.  
  
As reluctant as Logan was to admit it, he needed help. There were just too many files piling up on his desk. Where the heck was Bling when one needed the meddlesome.? Trailing a hand, shaky with lack of sleep, through his longish brown hair, Logan headed for the computer, intent on making the pile of Eyes Only printouts and notes on his desk disappear by half. And then, in the morning.. But there was no time now to fret about the morning.  
  
Just then, a shuffle in front of his door caught his attention and Logan jumped up, instinctively grabbing the gun from the small table in the hallway before approaching the entrance to the apartment. It wasn't until he heard the knock and the deep voice calling his name that his muscles relaxed, allowing the gun in his grip to slide down to his side as his free hand moved to let the visitor in.  
  
"Hey, man." The tall man's voice was deeply soothing to Logan, who promptly moved back a few steps to let Bling in. Talking on the phone on a few occasions had not made the awkwardness go away. Each conversation had been cut short by Logan's evasive answers, until Bling had threatened his former employer with bodily harm should he not accept help.  
  
"Hey, Bling." Logan's lips curved upwards. He was immensely relieved to see his old friend again, if only for a familiar face after all the turmoil. When he closed in to offer a heartfelt handshake, Logan suddenly found himself in a tight grip, barely able to move as the other man warned, more serious than joking: "If you ever do anything like that again, I promise to hand your ass to the bad guys myself."  
  
Mere seconds later, Bling had already stepped to the window, discreetly checking out the view and using the reflection of the glass to take in the changes the last few weeks had wreaked on his former employer. Apart from the new hairdo.beard and all.Logan seemed leaner. His worry and sorrow were easy to read for someone familiar with the way his features could turn to stone under duress.  
  
"Nice place," Bling remarked, turning and gesturing widely to the expanse of the apartment.  
  
Logan chuckled dryly, edgy with the urgency of his new task and knowing small talk was just a waste of time at this point, especially since it brought back more sad memories of Chad. The small, barely furnished apartment could in no way be compared to his Seattle penthouse. He pursed his lips and remained quiet.  
  
"What is it that you need, Logan, aside from a good pounding to set your priorities straight?" Bling paused, trying to gauge Logan's reaction. Was he really in doubt about resurrecting Eyes Only? Or was this just another one of those instances where Logan's life happened to push the Eyes Only work away, turning the person behind it into a nervous wreck with guilt?  
  
"No, let me guess," Bling continued, "you need a cat burglar?"  
  
Logan's sudden move surprised Bling as he found himself cornered into the cold, rusty heater. Noticing Logan's intent gaze and the tense, harried look, Bling worried for a moment that the last month's turmoils had been too much. What he didn't perceive in the low light of dusk was the twinkle in Logan's eyes as he bent over the muscular man.  
  
"Very thoughtful of you to volunteer, Bling. You can start right away." Seconds later, Bling was hugging a pile of files and listening to Logan's instructions. 


	26. Just when I needed you

26. Just when I needed you  
  
AN: Yay, hell froze over, indeed. What's worse is that I think - stretches hand out - yeah, it's snowing, too. Only two reviews, but I loved them, so I had to post. Deal with it and dress for winter weather! Lyrics in this part adapted from Bonnie Tyler's "Holding out for a Hero"  
  
*  
  
Max and Zack walked down the garbage-scattered street in awkward silence, dodging a rat here or a fly infested carcass there. It had been two days since their crash landing; two days that Max had spent recuperating and Zack brooding over his past, both of them wary of opening up to the other. Deep in thoughts, neither of them really noticed the desolate area they were strolling through or the ragged, hunched figures huddled in damp corners of the alley as darkness fell over the city.  
  
Suddenly, Zack became alert. His jaws clenched together, and he stared intently in the distance, muscles tense, ready for attack. Once again, he looked like an X5 on a mission. He quickly left Max's side and strode to a darker corner of the alley to observe a group of teens gathered around a large upturned metal barrel. Trying to figure out what had caught Zack's attention, Max took in the details of the scene. The barrel looked inconspicuous, once it had probably contained olives. Who knew what else it had been used for since then. The youngster hunched over it was trying to come up with the text to a rather wailing melody and was using the barrel as percussion instrument.  
  
A girl, haggard looking, the unkempt hair and her general appearance a sign that she probably lived on the streets, stood next to him, cheering, clapping and stomping her feet to the tune. At Zack's signal, Max joined him in the dark corner, several yards away from the small group, only to regret it seconds later, when she focused on the text of the song.  
  
"Eyes Only, Eyes Only, watching out, always there,/ Eyes Only, Eyes Only, cyber hack."  
  
"No, no, no!" the girl shouted."'principled and fair'."  
  
Horrified, Max tried to drag Zack away, but her attempt failed. The X5 was unresponsive, completely concentrated on the youngsters across the street.  
  
The kid at the barrel changed the rhythm and the girl jumped in with a cracked voice:  
  
"Day in, day out, he hacked around/ Cops and mayors, thugs and. and."  
  
"Zack!"  
  
The boy supplied:  
  
"Cops and dealers, thugs and mayors./ Baddies running in despair."  
  
"That doesn't rhyme!" The shrill voice of another boy in his early teens interrupted him. He ran toward them, dragging a dirty elderly man behind her.  
  
"We have a guitar, and Cash can play!"  
  
"Zack, we need to go, now!" Max hissed.  
  
The bum settled in front of the bonfire the kids had kindled with old cartons and caught the battered guitar shoved toward him.  
  
"Hey, it's got two strings!" he exclaimed in mock delight. "Can't ask for more."  
  
"Zack!" Still no response. Finally, Max gave up on trying to drag Zack away. While she wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole, there was no way she could leave Zack here alone with whatever flashbacks he was having. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the almost forgotten Manticore brainwash resistance routines.  
  
Lightly strumming the chords, the singer began to silently hum a rocky tune, soon adding in a few words. Here and there, one of the three youngsters would throw in a better rhyme, humming along to the black man's baritone, until the quick melody was sung by deep, raspy voices that had more emotion to them than talent.  
  
Yes, Max, focus on the poor excuse for singing. But it was too late. The singing wasn't half bad and the text had already drawn her in.  
  
"I need a hero,/  
  
I'm holding out for a hero."  
  
Logan's face flashed in front of Max' eyes, purpose driven, cold, hard, all Eyes Only. She tried desperately to remember a smile of his, but every time she thought she did, it would vanish, leaving behind the stricken expression that had appeared when she had told him about Alec.  
  
"and he's got to fight for the right."  
  
And fight for the right he did. And for her, too. If she concentrated enough, she could almost feel his hand in her hair, caressing it. She could almost see his sad smile, how he'd look away when it got too hard. He had always been there for her.  
  
"I would swear that there're blue eyes,/ somewhere watching me."  
  
Max bit her lip. One of these days she'd have to step to the real that there were no such things as ghosts and shared dreams. Manticore must have messed with her brain really badly if she even considered it. Or maybe she had indeed been on the outside too long, forgetting that life didn't dish out happy endings. She thought of the gill girl, as she had silently come to think of her. No, indeed, life didn't make it easy. But it could be done, with help from the right people, from the right man.  
  
".for the poor and the marred,/  
  
I need my hero, Eyes Only."  
  
Slowly, an insane idea began to form in her head as she remembered the hack she once did herself. These people needed Eyes Only. The hero needed to be resurrected. Maybe Sebastian. her thought trailed off as she realized its futility. She bit her lip. Eyes Only was gone for good. Gone, you hear, she silently yelled at herself. The sooner she'd get that through her emotion ridden head, the better for everybody. She had no time for this.  
  
As if to prove her right, an approaching hoverdrone emitted a low, buzzing sound that caught everybody's attention. As the small group of youngsters scrambled away, the song abruptly ended with a whimper from the abused guitar.  
  
Blending into the shadows, Max dared look at Zack again. The arrival of the hoverdrone had sent him hiding in the doorway of a house.  
  
Once the street was clear, Max got herself together and rushed him on, hoping the incident wouldn't have any consequences. "Zack, we need to go. The hoverdrones are beginning to make their rounds."  
  
Zack seemed to have emerged from whatever flashback he had been having. He was more relaxed now, but the look in his eyes was still unreadable. He broke the silence with a question that made her heart pound madly.  
  
"How can I be of any use to you, when I don't even know what's real and what's not? I'm a danger to you!" Bitterness suffused his words. And the he added, as if in an afterthought, "Just like he is."  
  
Max froze in her tracks, acutely aware that they couldn't argue in the street, even if it was dark. She pursed her lips, tempted to brush it all off with a quip, but in the end she remained quiet, unable to offer the reassurance he needed and wary of the implications his words had.  
  
For a moment, his eyes locked with hers, and she held her breath. "Who is he? Who's Logan?" he blurted out aggressively.  
  
That's what she had been afraid of. Max's voice caught in her throat. "Logan?" The last thing she needed right now was to have to explain about Logan.  
  
"While you were unconscious...." He stopped, as if realizing that his listening in could be misinterpreted. Since when did he care about that? Brusquely, he dragged her away from a stray dog that had been eyeing them curiously, and pushed her unceremoniously into the wall of the building.  
  
"You were saying his name. You mentioned him to Lydecker, too." His tone grew more belligerent with every second.  
  
Max feverishly looked for some way of escaping this dreaded conversation, when her apprehensive eyes met his fiery ones again and she was reminded of earlier discussions on the same subject. Damn Zack and his on and off brotherly feelings. She was not about to deny anything, and it was high time they sorted this out.  
  
She didn't realize it, Zack thought bitterly, but in the dark shadow of the entrance porch to a house probably inhabited only by rats and insects, she was quite a sight. Her right hand had somehow found the way to her well- rounded hip, her short, once again curly hair was tangled from the draft and her eyes glowed almost predatorily yellow as she raised her chin and met his eyes in defiance. "He's somebody I cared for."  
  
The words sounded hollow in her ears. There had been so much more to their relationship. Never taking her eyes off Zack, she added, stressing the words rebelliously, "A lot."  
  
Her outburst surprised even herself. Dealing with Lydecker and everything else hadn't left her much time to figure out what to tell Zack. She hadn't thought she'd be ready to tell him, not now, not ever. And yet, here she was, throwing into Zack's face something she hadn't allowed herself to think for a long while.  
  
"You love him, don't you?" The menace in his tone was hidden, but still there.  
  
"He's dead." The words rang in her ears, as if mocking her.  
  
"That's not what I asked." Zack's voice held an urgency, a no-nonsense feel that made Max finally burst out in quiet, cold rage:  
  
"You're someone who'll sacrifice everything to protect the ones you love, Zack. You'll probably understand if I told you I did the same thing."  
  
The words seemed to get to Zack. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, his left one was batting slightly.  
  
"You gave me up. For him!" His arms shot out and pinned her to the wooden door, bruising her still-aching shoulder.  
  
Guilt crept on her face and she lowered her eyes for a moment, only to respond a second later with a well placed kick in Zack's knee, effectively freeing herself from his grasp.  
  
"Between sending my brother away and letting the man I love be killed, I chose the lesser evil. Isn't that standard procedure?" she mocked.  
  
She wasn't prepared for the look Zack shot her, tired, almost desperate, defeated and yet burning her to the core.  
  
Zack was uncertain enough about his memories not to engage in an argument on the street. But he wasn't about to give in; defeat wasn't in his job description. "Was he Eyes Only?"  
  
Max' uninjured hand clenched to a fist as she stopped and turned toward the other X5, giving him a look that unmistakably told him to back off.  
  
"He helped me. Us. He cared. In ways no one ever will again. Anything else you remember is Manticore's doing."  
  
Zack snorted in doubt.  
  
"He crossed their path to help us and they wanted him dead. They succeeded, too." Max continued. Logan was dead, but for some reason it was important to her that Zack make his peace with him.  
  
She stopped for a second, searching for something to end an argument she hadn't been prepared for. What she came up with must have looked pitiful in Zack's eyes, but it was the best she could do at the moment. "Zack, I loved him. I left him, thinking he was my weakness. Turned out he was my strength."  
  
Her words came out softly, in stark contrast to the fierceness with which she had responded to Zack's earlier challenge. Slowly, she detached herself from the shadows of the rundown building and went ahead, while Zack followed through the streets at the outskirts of San Francisco. 


	27. Swearing off the whole gender

** Part 27  
Swearing off the whole gender**  
  
_ Graciously betaed by Dancinstar._  
  
Early mornings could be hot, even more so in California, as a dismayed Logan was discovering. The faded T-shirt, specked with motor oil, stuck to his back, and the sweat trickling down his spine, right over his scar, irritated him to no end as he fiddled with the innards of a dark blue Aztek. Logan debated whether he should scratch his back with his dirty hands or endure the torture in silence, until the buzz of a fly precipitated his reaction. He nervously tugged at the shirt, leaving dark brown finger streaks on the sides. Taking a brief look at himself he snorted in disgust, but then he remembered the task at hand and tried to ignore his own uneasiness.  
  
It was barely 7 AM and sleep hadn't been on his agenda the night before, what with Bling's arrival and all. Under his sweaty, uncharacteristically dirty fingers, the hood of the car had started to warm up. Logan sighed and wrinkled his nose to better settle the glasses on it. He never thought he'd miss Seattle's foggy drizzle. At least the incessant chatter of the sparrows above him would keep him awake at this ungodly early hour.  
  
Logan adjusted the headphones on his ears and fiddled with the CD player at his belt. The tunes of a hip hop song washed over him and he grimaced, clearing his voice. But there was no time to mess with that. He bent over the engine again and pulled out a wire, only to throw it away in a fit of anger as he kicked the wheel of the Aztek.   
  
"Damn!" he burst out.  
  
The rather clean street was beginning to get busy with well-clad people hurrying to and fro. Only in select areas of San Francisco like this one were the signs of depression well hidden. Unkempt trees, potholes in the pavement and graffiti on the walls notwithstanding, the high-rise district was expecting its upper level employees for a new business day. The sweaty man and his stranded blue Aztek had barely been receiving a curious glance from the passersby.  
Logan yanked the door open and swore loudly at the perky announcement that the door was ajar. Grabbing a screwdriver from the toolkit, he prepared to crawl out of the car backwards when a low whistling sound made him freeze in a half crouching position.   
  
"That's a sight for sore eyes early in the morning! Need any help, hon?" a female voice crooned.  
  
Logan felt the blood rushing into his cheeks as he self-consciously got out of the car and stood to face the woman.  
  
"Nah, I'm okay. Maybe I should call the mechanic," he hesitated, flustered.  
  
The high-heeled blonde eyed him appreciatively. "Think you'll be done by tonight?"  
  
The music on Logan's CD player had suddenly ceased and Logan caught himself, throwing an annoyed look at it and flashing the woman the widest smile he could sport under the circumstances. While she certainly was a gorgeous one, she'd never compare to Max.   
  
"I'm busy now, but if I'm still around when you get off…" he grinned.  
  
"I'll stop by for sure, sugar." She raised an eyebrow and continued her way with a swaggering strut, even turning once to look back at Logan, who managed a tortured smile.  
  
As soon as she was far enough, Logan slid into the driver's seat and let his head fall on the wheel.  
  
"You can stop laughing now," he whispered in annoyance. And put some classical music on, will you?"  
  
His words were met by silence.  
  
"Receiving?"  
  
"Loud and clear, 'hon'." Bling's voice boomed. Logan grimaced at the snicker that followed.  
  
Bling would never let him hear the end of this. Logan sighed in relief as classical music finally flooded the car. At first the chick had made him smile. She had been interested in him. Ahem, rather in his butt, but that was beside the point now. Or was it? He closed his eyes and passed his hand through the still unruly hair. Max. Surprisingly enough, he caught himself remembering not her beauty or her fighting skills, but the look on her face as she gulped down some Cale crepes, the way she had glanced at him when she'd once again forgot to knock and forced the lock instead, the feel of her hand in his as they danced in the penthouse.   
  
Damn, thinking about Max hurt - even now. He'd find her, help her get a new start and then... then maybe he'd be able to close this chapter in his life. The best one yet.   
  
Logan's brow furrowed and a drop of blood appeared on the lower lip he had fiercely bitten on. His hand clenching around the screwdriver, he took a long look at the street. Everything was as it should have been. One by one, the lone passersby seemed to let themselves be swallowed up by the buildings, disappearing into their cozy offices and allowing Logan to calm down.  
  
Without Max, breaking and entering was a tricky issue, especially since the guards looked very vigilant and electronically checked the perimeter for cameras and microphones when a shift ended and the other one started.   
  
Familiars, Logan suspected. He'd rather not get friendly with those, if it could be avoided, so he had resorted to staking out the building Lydecker had indicated. Now, if only his target would show up so that he could record the access sequence for the building... He had barely started to tap his fingers on the steering wheel when a black car screeched to a halt in front of him and all hell broke loose.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	28. Look what the cat dragged in

**Part 28   
  
Look what the cat dragged in**  
  
_AN: Should Ffnet go down for a longer period of time, you'll find new parts on my site (link in the profile). And please leave feedback, positive or negative. I do write for the pleasure of it, but feedback gives me a boost. ;)  
bigparola@yahoo.com  
  
Dancinstar's comments improved this quite a bit. ;)_  
-------  
  
  
For a while, Zack followed a pissed-off Max as she walked briskly through the streets. He even thought about catching up, about trying to convince her that she was better off without this...Logan guy. But the sadness he had seen in her eyes earlier stopped him. He knew she was hurting, but he had no idea how to help her. After walking a block, it occurred to him that she wasn't headed to the ramshackle house they had been squatting in for the past two days, and he slowed down.  
  
How much did he really know? What if she was right? What if the strong irritation and unexplainable animosity he felt toward this name, Logan, was nothing but another Manticore trick? It was almost worse than the hate he had for Lydecker, building up in him at every mention of the name. And the thought of Logan and Max... Zack looked up, trying to find something, anything that would distract him. He viciously kicked an empty carton out of the way, just one of the many littering the street, and it flew high, only to thunk against a solid metal fence. The sound of what under different circumstances could have been a mortally wounded enemy helped sober Zack up. This rage of his was getting ridiculous. He was starting to be ridiculous.   
  
Zack looked ahead, trying to see where Max had gone. Moving quickly ahead, with a grace only she could have, she was about to leave the deserted street and disappear around a well-lit corner. She probably hadn't looked back once.  
  
Zack stopped, unwilling to follow. Max was Max. She had been his second-in-command, the one he could trust, unless emotions got in her way. They had been a team and it all reached back to a time long ago. He probably should follow her lead, go with her and protect her. But it was obvious she didn't want him to. Did he really want to follow? Was being a soldier and a brother enough, since she wouldn't allow more?  
  
Sickening doubt crept up on him as he asked himself about the emptiness he felt. He suspected it wasn't linked to the few memories still missing, or to the anger surging through him. There had to be more than just anger in this life, more than just fighting. He'd have to figure out for himself what it was.  
  
*  
  
Max strode through the streets, angered at her outburst in Zack's presence. It hadn't been her intention to tell him that much. 'A soldier always plans ahead, X5-452,' Lydecker's voice kept ringing in her ears. 'Brilliant planning,' she snorted at herself. Her emotions had gotten the better of her once again, in front of Zack of all people. She bit her lip and looked down, furious with herself. The damp heat of the pavement had come to life in the blurry light ahead and slowly rose to her in shiny vapors. A female fog bank. Just that and nothing else. She had tried to peek out of the fogbank tonight and the emotionality of it had taken her by surprise. She wasn't supposed to feel it. She didn't want to feel it. And yet...it was there.  
  
Max turned around a corner and looked up, wondering at the lone streetlight that threw shadows in front of her. Behind her, Zack was nowhere to be seen. They'd meet back at the house, she supposed, unwilling to return until she had cooled off and found a solution for her situation. At a moment like this, she found herself longing for the Space Needle. But around here, the houses were small; everybody would see her sitting on the roof. The street opened into a small plaza in the center of which an ornate fountain served as garbage dump. Here and there, several wooden booths sprinkled on the sides of the plaza reminded her of mushrooms. Max chuckled at the absurd thought. It would probably be a well-populated area in daytime, maybe a market of some sort. Even now, with the curfew near, there were a few people hanging around. Max smiled, noticing the sleazy types whistling behind her. A bit of an ass kicking would be a definite mood booster.  
  
"Hey, honey...Come, let's share the sweetness..." One of the catcallers looked to be of the worst type and Max half-turned, glad for the distraction.  
  
"Sure, sweetiepieeeeeeeeee..." The words dragged out and ended in a muffled "ouch" as Max went down, face first, steadying herself at the last moment on the object that had tripped her: a girl's outstretched legs.  
  
Loud laughter boomed behind her, but the slimy offers of help barely reached Max's ears. She was too busy scrutinizing the girl sitting on the sidewalk, her back leaning on the shabby wall of an uninhabited house, legs stretched out in front of her.  
  
"Damn," Max cursed and straightened up, angry at her own sloppiness. The culprit was still sitting in the same place. A wisp of blonde hair reached over the girl's face, and more hair, of a brown shade, stuck out in several directions from under the washed-out jeans cap. Streaks of dirt made anything else barely recognizable, but a pair of green eyes looked up pleadingly, making Max relent.  
  
"What'ya doing there, kid?"   
  
"I'm not a kid!" was the grumbled response, eliciting a smile from Max, who was now squatting in front of the half-blonde girl. She must have been about thirteen years old, maybe even fourteen.  
  
"How about a name then?"  
  
Silence and a scalding look were the only answers. Only now did Max notice a few bruises and some dried blood under the hair. Looking down at the legs, a dirty, faded bandana wrapped around a knee caught her eye.  
  
Even though she didn't have her back turned to them, Max's squatting position had encouraged the catcallers to approach and jeer some more, hoping to get a better view. Reassured that the girl wasn't hurt too badly, at least physically, Max was pondering if she had been tripped on purpose or not, when she noticed one of the three men nearing to only a few feet away.  
  
The girl's eyes involuntarily widened and Max took that as a sign to slowly rise to her feet, slightly swaying for more effect. One moment she was winking at the girl, the other she was already facing the three leering men.  
  
"You lost something, honey? Maybe we could give it to you," the bearded one chuckled.   
  
Max smiled sweetly, as if relieved. "No, not really, but I think *you're* gonna lose something."  
  
A swift kick in the groin sent the bearded man to his knees, but the other two jumped Max from both sides--one trying to grab her longish hair, the other going for a choke grip. A curse escaped Max, who silently promised herself she'd get a haircut. But before the two could grab a serious hold, their heads clunked together with a thud and a well-placed kick sent them flying next to their mate.  
  
Disgusted, Max wiped her hands off on her jacket and grumbled. "Even if I had a bad hair day, that's none of your business."  
  
Behind her, the girl chuckled, her eyes large in wonder. "That wasn't bad."  
  
"Yeah, well, next time I'll wear a wig." Max grinned, her mood seriously improved by the quick fight. The almost healed arm hadn't caused any problems, either. She eyed the girl, in sympathy, and yet wary of her role in the little skirmish. "Can you get up?"  
  
Max extended a hand and the girl made a grab for it, when suddenly the streetlight was covered by a shadow and Max reflexively turned, encountering an arm with a knife. The bearded man had recovered, but not for long. The struggle took mere seconds before the man's arm was propelled forward and the knife whizzed through the air over the girl's head and lodged into the wall, shortly followed by the man's head.  
  
"Ouch!" the girl cried out, staring alternatively at the knife in the wall over her head and at the man crumpled in her lap.  
  
"Come on," Max prompted. "He doesn't need a pillow."  
  
The girl stood up, shaky at first, holding on to Max's arm to step over the bearded thug and then hobbling along with her. Max looked around. There was no one else on the street at the moment, other than the three crouching victims of her anger, but that didn't mean they should stick around. Glancing at the blonde limping along next to her, Max made a last attempt.  
  
"So, if you don't want me to call you 'kid,' how about a name? I'm Max."  
  
Green eyes looked up impishly. "Call me Kittie. Just Kittie, with two 'i's."  
  
Max grinned involuntarily, which brought her an accusing stare from Kittie.  
  
"What were you doing there, anyway, sitting on the sidewalk?" Max prodded, curious about the girl.  
  
"Just resting." Sullen silence followed and Max sighed.  
  
"Will you at least tell me who put the rainbow on your face?" They had turned into a somewhat fancier street now and the blue-tinted swelling was more noticeable in the bright streetlight.  
  
"If you tell me how you got those three down on their knees in 30 seconds," Kittie countered.  
  
"I've got moves, learned to fight early on. That's all." Max glanced sideways at Kittie, not sure if she'd buy the half lie, but the girl was all excited and didn't notice.  
  
"Would you show me?" The words didn't come out as a plea, as Max expected, but instead out of wariness, as if the girl doubted the right to ask.  
  
"Girls kick ass, you know that, don't you?" They both smiled. "So spill, what happened today? Tell me and I'll show you a few moves," Max coaxed. She didn't know what prompted her to ask about the girl's day. After all, she'd be gone in a short while, back to Seattle, where rumor had it that transgenics were fighting for their lives. Maybe she needed to take her mind off her problems. Or maybe it was Kittie's stubborn refusal to talk in the first place that had kindled Max's curiosity.  
  
Cutting deals, that was something Kittie understood and approved of. In a matter of minutes, they were strolling through what had once been a park, not caring about the damp grass, the garbage piles or the noises of scurrying rodents here and there.  
  
Kittie's hurt knee made any extensive exercise impossible, so Max showed her how to kick a man where it counted and to squirm away when gripped. Soon, girly giggles and cheerful laughs echoed through the badly lit park.  
  
"I'm still waiting, you know," Max prodded after a moment of silence, thinking of sending the girl to her crib and returning to face Zack.  
  
"Oh, that," Kittie reluctantly answered. "Well, I was walking downtown, you know, where all the big shots have their shiny offices, and there was suddenly a lot of smoke and a car came screeching to a halt right in front of me."  
  
Max nodded. "And?"  
  
"And that was it." Kittie pursed her lips and moved her foot, trying to squish a strand of grass into the humid soil.  
  
Max had to wonder about her own sanity for a moment. What had possessed her to offer help in the first place, she couldn't imagine. Maybe a hunch that the girl worked for the three sleazebags. Annoyed, Max turned to go.  
  
"Wait!" Kittie exclaimed. Seeing that Max intended to leave, she conceded. "I kinda got hit by a car."  
  
"Kinda? Listen, kid, you either tell me or you don't. I got my own problems."   
  
Max' tone had lost its softness as Kittie noticed, and she was back to calling her "kid" again. Kittie hurried to explain.  
  
"Well, the car was smoking and it would have hit me, but there was this guy who pushed me away and we fell. Hurt my knee. Then the car exploded and I got some stuff flying at me; hit my head, too." Kittie was almost whining, but Max's calm attitude told her it wouldn't get her far. So she continued, pensive. "They said it was an accident, but it sounded more like a bomb."  
  
Max looked at Kittie, amazed. This was the last thing she had expected to hear. She had anticipated a puny scheme with the three scumbags, using the girl for a little game of "rob the passersby," not this. She eyed the girl suspiciously. "They, who're they?"  
  
"The suits who came out of the building and took everyone inside. The man who pushed me told me to run, and I did. I've been hanging around the area the whole day now. They haven't come out yet. And a police car came and went right afterwards. Took care of the wreck." Kittie's eyes lit up in excitement as she recounted.  
  
"What do you mean, they haven't come out? Where was this?"  
  
"One block away from where we met. But you're right, I've been with you for a while now, maybe they got sent home," she mused.  
  
"And you're sure you weren't just helping the three ninnies get to me?" Max asked. There was no way to be sure the girl wasn't blushing under the streaks of dirt.  
  
"No way, those guys were creepy!" Kittie whispered and suddenly looked up to Max, glancing away after a second. "I gotta go, my momma's waiting."  
  
Before Max could respond, Kittie had given her a quick hug and sprinted, still hobbling somewhat, briefly waving good-bye.  
  
"Hey, be careful!" Max whispered after her, tempted to follow. "Momma, my ass," she muttered. That girl sure didn't act like she had a mother waiting for her.  
  
Max turned, heading to the suburbs again, where Zack must have been waiting at the house for a while. They needed to talk and plan the return to Seattle. Maybe with the recently acquired "funding," as she liked to call it, she could get a new bike. In a sudden fit of inspiration, Max felt for the money Zack had swiped the other day and cursed silently. Her pocket was empty.  
  
  
----  
Good? Bad? I know, I know. You all want to see the reunion. It's coming, and fast. ;)  
  



	29. A little bit of hell

** Part 29  
A little bit of hell**  
  
_ AN: Here's the next one for your enjoyment. We last left Logan staking out the Familiar Headquarters, trying to come up with a way to get in without the help of his favorite cat burglar. He was still blushing over Bling's jokes when all hell broke loose.  
---_  
  
  
The ear-piercing screech of the car's brakes was accompanied by a trail of smoke as it skidded toward the sidewalk, obviously out of control. Logan didn't even have time to curse; the black SUV was headed in his direction and he wasn't about to wait for it to brake. Sprinting out of the car and to the left, his attempt to reach the safe portion of the sidewalk was hampered by a girl, seemingly rooted to the ground in shock.   
  
He didn't think, instead he felt the heat emanating from the car that was approaching fast, threatening to crush both of them into the row of parked vehicles. Grabbing the girl, Logan dove forward and as much to the left as he could, but it was too late. The SUV's left side grazed him, letting a sharp pain soar in his ribs as he fell, rolling on the ground, the girl safely in his grip.   
  
The car finally stopped, hitting an old light pole that bent on impact, but Logan didn't see that, didn't feel the debris raining upon them; all he felt was the girl he had to shield with his body, to protect from the fall and ...   
  
Suddenly, he wasn't looking at the pavement anymore, but at the light blue sky again. He remembered that particular blue color, the smell of burnt rubber and wasted brake liquid, the feel of .... of nothing, no feeling below his chest, that cessation of all sensation while the sound of flying bullets tore through the hot air, imparting an aroma of gunpowder to the smell of the asphalt.   
  
The girl tried to wriggle out of his grasp and Logan felt himself brought back to the present when she accidentally touched his leg and he almost yelped in pain. Instead, Logan half grimaced, half smiled. It hurt. That was good.   
  
He let go of the girl who stood up shakily. She extended a dirty hand he gladly took as support. Several passersby were staring at what was left of the smoking SUV and Logan's eyes reflexively darted toward the guards he had been observing all day. None of them had moved, they were both staring at the crashed car across the street, they were talking into their comms, agitated, but they weren't leaving their positions. Damn! That was some discipline they had been taught.   
  
Logan was now on his feet, still feeling some pain in his ribs and left leg, but nothing too intense. The girl was crying next to him and Logan turned to comfort her when a muffled sound made itself heard from the SUV. Someone was still alive in there, but not for long, if he was to judge by the smoke and flames that were lapping at the back of the car. No one on the street made a move to help. Somewhere, a woman was shrieking, but it didn't look like anyone would move soon.   
  
Damn Lydecker and his intel! And what in the blazes had Stetter done? They had talked about a diversion, not an exploding car! Logan swore under his breath and approached the car on the driver side, where the biting smoke allowed him to vaguely make out a man struggling to get out. The door of the black vehicle was hot and he wrapped his hands in his shirt trying to pull at it, knowing full well that its opening would bring a gust of oxygen into the flame threatened interior.   
  
The man on the inside was pushing while Logan pulled, but it was no use, the door was stuck. Logan bent and picked up a piece of debris he swung at the window. Inside, the man covered his face at the cracking of the glass.   
  
His voice had a frantic tone to it as he half yelled, half pleaded with Logan.   
  
"I'm stuck!"   
  
By this time, the smoke was making Logan's eyes tear and his breathing wheeze, but he took one large gulp of air and bent through the window. The smell of gasoline inside made Logan hurry as much as he could, but the seatbelt wouldn't budge.   
  
"Go away! It's going to blow!" A gut-wrenching cough accompanied the driver's words.   
  
Logan took a cursory glance at the man on the other seat; it was enough to see his bloodied head slumped on the dashboard, and a gun in his grip. Gritting his teeth, Logan reached over the driver and made for the gun, but the distance was too big and he was almost choking with the smoke. His extended fingers missed their target, touching the head of the slumped man instead. It rolled on the side only to reveal wide-open brown eyes. But the driver had seen Logan reach for the gun and grabbed it, passing it on to him.   
  
"Don't miss!" the driver whispered, his head lolling to the side just as Logan fired two clean shots at the seatbelt.   
  
It couldn't have taken Logan long to free the driver, but it sure seemed like centuries to his burning lungs, invaded by the smoke and the stench of burning leather. With a last effort, Logan grabbed the man and started to pull him out the large SUV window in an attempt that seemed useless. The back of the car was in flames and an explosion was imminent.   
  
Suddenly, through the smoke, Logan saw a pair of small hands grab the driver next to his, pulling with him. It wasn't much help, but it was enough. With two yanks, the man was out and Logan started to drag him to the sidewalk, when it suddenly occurred to him that the helping hands didn't belong to any of the passersby still looking at them. It was the girl who was had been pulling alongside with him and who was now slumped on the sidewalk next to them, catching her breath.   
  
But Logan didn't have much time to wonder about her. Loud crackling resounded from the car and then its back blew up with a loud bang. Once again Logan grabbed the girl protectively, but this time no debris came their way. Instead, as if on cue, as the smoke was dissipating, Logan saw the guards approach.   
  
Of course, now that the car had exploded, there was no threat anymore, he thought scornfully. But they didn't come over. Instead, they were asking the several passersby standing around to come inside the building, shoving more than asking in some cases.   
  
The doors of Hell were finally open, Logan realized and the thought gave him a chill. A few hundred yards away, another guard was talking to a policeman in his cruiser. When the police drove away leisurely, something clicked in Logan's head and he whispered to the wide-eyed girl sitting next to him.  
  
"Kid, get out of here, now!"   
  
Her eyes looked at him unblinking and he shook her, hard, again and again. From his position between the cars parked on the sidewalk, he could see two guards looking in their direction and he yanked the girl to her feet, finally getting her attention.   
  
"Listen, you did a good thing out there, it was great, but you need to go now," he urged, nodding in the direction of the guards.   
  
The girl seemed to understand, as she looked first at the building the people were taken into and then in Logan's piercing blue eyes.   
  
"Run and don't come back, understood?" he gritted through his teeth as the girl scrambled to her feet and taking a last look at him, disappeared behind the parked cars.  
  
Logan allowed himself a moment to close his stinging eyes and inhale deeply. The air around was not what he'd normally call breathable, but he couldn't be picky. The burning sensation in his chest was almost gone. Next to him, the man he had dragged on the sidewalk was still breathing and occasionally moaning. His dark skin and high cheekbones visible under the grime alluded to a mixed descent.   
  
Maybe Latino? Logan wondered and then chuckled. Who cared? The man was alive and that was all. But Eyes Only might not be as fortunate, he mused, seeing how the guards gesticulated toward them. One look at the shattered CD player still hanging at his waist told him there wasn't much help to be expected from that side. Bling and the rest would keep out, as ordered. Maybe they'd even transmit the hack, as he had instructed. But he wouldn't run now. If he had any luck, they'd take him inside. At least he could do some damage in there.  
  
"Ouch!" a low moan came from the driver on the sidewalk, and Logan moved a few centimeters to bend over him. Blue eyes met brown ones and there was a moment of silence as each appraised the other. At one point, the driver's eyes widened a bit while his eyebrows drew closer together. Finally, he tried to get up to a sitting position and Logan helped him.  
  
"Thanks!" the driver offered, eyes shining with sincerity. "You were quite good out there."   
  
Logan looked at him and tried to smile a bit. Instead, he shrugged: "Don't sell yourself short, you hit that pole like a master archer: bull's eye."  
  
The sarcasm dripping in Logan's voice was not lost on the driver, whose blood rushed into his cheeks. "Well, I was... distracted..." he tried to explain, knowing the other man had to be wondering about the gun and the smoke in the car.  
  
Logan managed a cocky smile, wary about the driver of a Familiar. So what, if the driver and the Familiar had struggled for the gun? So what if the man had an open and likeable way about him? Those were not reasons to trust him. But when the driver stood up, cursing under his breath before he finally caught himself and extended a hand to the man on the sidewalk, Logan decided to take it. The man's grip was warm and strong, in spite of the situation, and his voice had a gentle timbre to it as he introduced himself to the now standing Logan.   
  
"Otto's my name. Thanks for the help." His tone revealed that he didn't expect any answer. Maybe that's why Logan decided to reply.  
  
"I'm Nick. And no problem."   
  
They were both standing now and Logan had a clear view of the still open door to the mysterious building he had been observing. All the passersby who had witnessed the incident had been rounded up and taken inside and now one of the guards approached them, inviting them to join the rest.   
  
As Logan went through the high, arched doorway he had been seeking access to, a feeling of peace flooded him. The plan had gone down the drain; he was in the middle of the Familiar Headquarter, with no contact to the outside, and the added encumbrance of potential hostages. And yet somehow, he felt that the universe was right on schedule.  
  
  
  
_ To be continued...  
  
AN: Come on, guys, it's hot in here and I'm writing. Please tell me what you think. Criticism and nitpicks most welcome.   
  
_  
  
  



	30. Belly of the Beast I

AN: A recap of the basics for those of you who forgot what this story was about. And yes, it's still unbetaed.

_While at work, Max finds out that EO's identity has been revealed and that Logan Cale is dead. _

_She receives a message to go to the Space Needle, thinks it's from Sung, but gets there too late, or so she thinks. Alec is there to bring her her bike back. Unbeknownst to her, Logan, alive and well, is the person waiting for her and he sees her with Alec. _

Her inquiries into Logan's "death" show Max that senator McKinley is the one responsible. The senator however is nowhere to be found. Frustrated, Max uses the idle moment to leave town and get Zack, who might be in danger during the anti-transgenic craze sweeping the country. Max and Zack are Deck's prisoners for a week but flee before they can find out about his mysterious plans. On the run, they crash a chopper near San Francisco. Meanwhile, Zack is regaining his memory.

_Logan leaves for San Francisco where he sets up shop under a new identity. Bling and Beverly Shankar help him. Battered and drunk, Lydecker shows up with a plan to bring White down and Logan agrees, staking out the Familiar Headquarters. The plan goes wrong and Logan is stuck in the lion's den with Otto and a few hostages._

Now on with the story before everybody lynches me:

Part 30 

**Belly of the Beast I**

One would have thought that a car crash accompanied by an explosion would cause some disarray in the daily business of the Familiar headquarters. But that didn't seem to be the case. The guards in front of the entrance were highly trained and the clerks inside knew exactly what their tasks were in an emergency situation.

The small hallway Logan and Otto had been ushered through opened up into a wide, marble floored patio, only furnished by a tall, Spartan looking reception desk. On the other side of it, a long hallway led deep into the building. Everything around them, from the burgundy plush runners on the marble floor to the crystal chandeliers bathing the hallway in artificial light, had an aura of wealth and snobbish exclusiveness.

Logan's first thought was of aunt Margo after his parents' death. She would have felt right at home in here. And no doubt, just like the Cale mansion she had redecorated, this place made the hair stand up on his arms. Good that he was used to the feeling.

Logan took in the ordered chaos around as quietly and unobtrusively as he could. Suit clad people hurried to and fro, but never for a second would you have thought from their well-calculated movements that something could have been amiss.

The guard accompanying them stopped at the reception desk.

"Wait here!" he barked at them. As he proceeded to call for assistance, the guard glared at Otto menacingly.

Otto, poised and sure of himself, seemed to ignore him, but Logan noticed he froze at the sight that revealed itself in the hallway, on the other side of the patio. About a dozen people, almost all bystanders and witnesses of the incident, stood in front of a padded door, waiting. A well-built blond man ushered them in, one by one.

Otto didn't know much of the headquarters, since he had been here only once, accompanying White, but he trusted his instincts. This was bad. Glancing at Nick, as the brown haired man had introduced himself, Otto saw his rescuer was not very comfortable either. A strange smile played on the man's face for a moment and then his lips tightened as he caught sight of movement in the opposite corner of the long hallway. Otto followed his gaze and gulped.

Careful, as not to attract the attention of the guard who was listening intently on the phone, uttering an occasional "Yes, sir", Otto leaned his head on one side and whispered.

"You need to get out of here." As soon as he said it, the futility of his words occurred to him. Indeed, they both needed to get out. How they were going to do it was still a mystery.

Logan answered with a look of surprise on his face that turned into an enigmatic smile. "I do?" He did question his own sanity as he realized where this was going to take him, but the situation presented oportunities that were just beginning to get interesting.

Otto whispered back, slightly annoyed by the seeming lack of comprehension.

"If I could, I'd run as fast as my legs would carry me." And it was the truth. His status with White offered him some degree of protection against whatever could be happening here, but for the other man.. The chances were slim.

"But you can't?"

This time, Otto looked Logan in the eyes, slightly irritated. And yet, he'd answer truthfully. The man had saved his life and probably had no idea what he was getting into. "Not yet. In my case it would be too late anyway. You however.."

Logan had his lips pressed tightly together, a grim expression having chased away the enigmatic smile. Looking at his lanky frame and the brown beard hiding most of the facial expressions, Otto couldn't help thinking that there was more to him than met the eye. The man knew something and it became evident in his next answer:

"It's too late for me, too."

Otto was sorely pressed to ask more questions, but the guard had finished listening to the monologue on the other end and ushered them through the glass door into the hallway.

"You sure?", Otto whispered to the man next to him.

"After you," Logan answered decisively.

Logan gulped. He was in. He was convinced that there was more he could do inside than on the outside. As for the risk.. to hell with it. He had nothing to lose.

They had almost reached the end of the hallway and with it, the door Otto had been dreading, when a guard came out.

"Otto.. we were expecting you." Not a word about the disaster outside. The zaccharine smile on the guard's lips couldn't be more fake and Logan wondered why the guy even bothered. He understood seconds later as the man inquired in a sickeningly polite tone, "And the gentleman is?"

His careful planning shot to hell, Logan had decided to play the role of the innocent and ride it out, hoping to find out more on the enemy and to just be around in case his worst fears came true and the witnesses were going to vanish.

"I, just.." Logan began.

Quickly, Otto interrupted, his tone surprisingly firm, "He's with me."

The guard bid them inside while behind them, the padded door closed with a thud.


	31. Belly of the Beast II

31. Belly of the Beast II 

Fred Richards squirmed in his black leather seat. In another hour he'd have to report to the High Council. The summons had come unexpectedly and he'd spent considerable time trying to figure out the reason for that meeting and preparing a report for the various actions he had suprvised in the past two weeks. There were those nosy San Francisco reporters he had made disappear, then the two deals with medical supplies to keep up the cover they had set up for themselves. Plus, that White fellow had located a few of Manticore's staff that had gone into hiding.

It had become harder and harder to find them since White had broken with the NSA and had to resort to CIA covers only. Plus, ever since the Eyes Only affair, they had been told to lay low and let the waves settle down. And then there was this other guy, Otto, who was supposed to bring in some high interest catch of White's and instead had wrought a huge mess he had to deal with right now. All in all a very busy time, but at least he wasn't in charge of the Seattle transgenic round up.

Just the thought of that brought a smile on his lips, one too quickly interrupted by the entrance of his assistant.

"Sir?"

"Yeah," he responded gruffly, annoyed with the interruption.

"The persons you expected, sir."

Richards waved them in. The last thing he needed now was a media screw up he'd have to report to the High Council.

Otto came in, accompanied by a tall bearded man who looked decidedly too young to be a high ranking Manticore official as announced.

Richards let the two men wait in front of his desk. He had always relished doing so, since it allowed him to observe as well as enjoy the anxiety most people displayed in such a situation. One look at Otto was enough of a reminder why White had insisted on keeping his lapdog around, even beyond the association with the NSA. The man did indeed look like a loyal bulldog while his eyes had an intelligent spark to them. Obedience and intelligence in one person were very hard to find these days, a reason why he had reluctantly agreed to a less drastic punishment for the mess outside.

The other guy though, irritated Richards by his very presence. Was it his beard, or his eyes that slowly, almost professionally, moved around the room, taking every detail in, not in the least phased by the silence? His clothes didn't look like much, either.

"Well," Richards spoke up, "Otto, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have any idea of the disaster you caused outside? People have been injured, cars totaled, negative publicity...."

"Sir..." Otto tried, bewildered at the last words.

"Luckily, the victims are being taken care of," Richards continued, stressing the words carefully.

Had Otto cringed? Richards smiled. The man's training was good but not good enough. The blinking light on the phone distracted him into picking up.

"The situation is under control sir. But there was a dead man in the car. Gunshot. We found the gun, too and brought everything to storage 56B."

"Clean up and don't forget to check for prints." Richards disconnected without another word, giving the two men in front of him all his attention.

"Well, Otto, before you enlighten me with the details of the accident out there, please show some good manners and introduce me to the gentleman with you. He's one of ours, I hope."

"Yes. He's my driver, sir," Otto answered, his face a straight mask.. He looked intensely at the man next to him and added. "And occasionally my mechanic, sir."

While shocked and pleasantly surprised that he wouldn't need his own shaky cover, Logan managed to supress any outward manifestation of his feelings. All he did was blink under the scrutiny of the Familiar. Had it been too much?

"Ah, I see. Indeed, the doorman reported seeing him fixing a car this morning. Mr..."

To Richards, the man seemed a bit pale as he answered, but then the incident outside was probably cause enough for more than pallor where simple humans were concerned.

"Nicholas Kruger, ...sir"

Richards eyed him with disgust. Not only was the man sweaty and dirty, but his casual clothes were all torn up, too. Where on earth did White find these guys? At least Otto had the decency to wear a suit.

"And what were you doing in front of our building this morning, Mr... Kruger?"

"The Aztek had trouble with the ignition and I thought I could take a look at it while waiting."

"Waiting for?"

"I told him to meet me here with a spare car, sir." Otto cut in.

"I see, you don't like our limos anymore, Otto." Richards chuckled and waved Otto to lay off when he tried to answer.

Richards abruptly stood. One day, one day, this filth, these sorry excuses for life forms, they'd all be gone. He had to hope that. In the meantime, the sooner this Kruger got off his plush carpet, the better.

"Otto, excuse me for a second." Walking to the door, Richards motioned to the dirty man.

"Well, Kruger, I have a car down in the garage that our people couldn't fix, maybe you'll give it a try after you clean up?"

"Sure, sir."

Standing in the doorway, Richards waved to a guard,

"Please show Mr. Kruger here to the garage, Harrison will take him from there."

Making a point not to shake the mechanic's hand, Richards stopped for a moment to look in his brown eyes.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Kruger. From a familiar to another one. Fenos'tol."

The answer came with only the slightest hesitation.

"From my father before me. For my sons. Fenos'tol."

Satisfied, Richards nodded him to go, but lingered for a moment to watch him disappear. Kruger was quite a bit down the hall when Richards went back in to debrief Otto.


	32. She's gonna do what she's gonna do

**Part 32**

**She's gonna do what she's gonna do**

Someone up there certainly hated her, Max mused. The past year had been a total mess and things seemed to just refuse to lighten up. Being caught by Manticore, Zack's "transformation", the virus, White and his cult cronies, the Alec lie, the exposure, Logan... gone, the transgenics hunted down, Lydecker pursuing an unknown agenda and now... she had been robbed. By a scrawny kid no less. What in the Blue Lady's name was going on with her! To top it all, the former Manticore soldier found herself way too emotional and whiny for her own good. Could things get any worse ?

Her inner demon wasted no time in retorting: _"Were they ever better?" _

Max frowned. Yeah, things had been better. She found herself wishing for the days she had been playing hide and seek with Manticore, finding occasional shelter with Logan. There was no more playing now and no more shelter. And she wasn't whining, she was just... bitter. _Right_, she snorted at herself and entered the four story building ahead of her.

A normal person would have groped in the darkness, trying to find her way by touching the part musty - part peeled walls while carefully climbing the stairs. Not so Max. Besides, she remembered being told that she'd never be a normal anything. _Indeed._

Still, the long hallway was dark and there was enough debris scattered around for Max to have to be careful what she stepped on. The last thing she wanted was to alert the squatters one floor below that they had company. They tended to be pretty possessive as she had discovered in the past. There was also the small matter of convincing Zack to go along with her plan of returning to Seattle.

Lydecker had forced a "break" on her, but she had unfinished business in Seattle. Word was, transgenics had been dropping like flies. Plus, by now she thought she knew why they said that revenge was a dish best served cold. She had to see what Bling had come up with and kick the bastards out of this universe. Maybe then, Eyes Only.... But no, it was all wishful thinking, right now she had to stick with the immediate task, Zack.

Finally at her destination, Max entered the three bedroom apartment she was sharing with Zack and frowned at the loud squeak of the door closing behind her. Noises like that could give them away. The place was in good shape though. Judging by the yellowed pictures she had found on the wobbly nightstand, it had once belonged to a nice old lady and her family. Now, the only occupant of the threadbare purple recliner was Zack, who was perusing what seemed to be a rather recent newspaper.

Max had a hard time holding a chuckle back at the sight of her stern brother surrounded by purple. Zack heard her and lowered the paper, fixing her with a brotherly glare. It was amazing how quickly they had found back to their old routines. This time, Max grinned widely, her head cocked a bit, hands on her hips.

„Anything useful in that rag?"By the looks of it, it was the government approved news flyer. Not that they didn't all need to be approved, but this one was the worst.

„Nah,"he mumbled. „Just the inevitable: Corruption, death, taxes."

President meets with the council to decide on the energy reallocation program. Households will not be affected if they pay the energy tax in time.

More like energy cuts for all but the rich.

„We'll leave in the morning,"she announced casually, eager to get the confrontation out of the way.

_Journalists die in separate accidents._

Max was too distracted by the front page headline to heed Zack's frown. Those deaths sounded like something Eyes Only would have investigated. „Hey, give me that paper for a sec."

„No, Max."

„What do you mean, no?"

„Just that, Max, no. **We** won't leave. I need you to stay."

And out the window went her plan. Again. Now Zack had her undivided attention. „After all that time trying to get me to come with you, you suddenly don't want me to?"

„I want you to be safe, Max. I want all of us, the few of us left, to be safe. That's why I'm going back to Seattle. And that's why you're staying here."His voice had been soft, almost brotherly in the beginning, the harshness of his tone increasing gradually. By now he had risen to his full height and stepped toward Max.

Max sighed. Deja vu all over again. Some men seemed to have selective amnesia.

„I'm not staying, Zack! I left Seattle only to come look for you and now I'm returning, just like it was planned."

There was nothing brotherly left in Zack's voice now. In fact, he reminded Max so much of Lydecker's snare that she almost flinched at his words. „You came looking for me? How convenient! You left me on a farm, Max! I had no intel and no backup in case of an ambush. Don't tell me they taught that back at Manticore while I was being... refitted." There had been only the slightest hesitation as the word rolled off his lips.

Max defended herself in a slightly annoyed tone. „Zack, I made a choice. The right one. The moment I thought there was danger ahead, I came for you."

„You were late. Why is that, Max ? I'll tell you why! Because your unit is always last on your priority list."

„That's not true, Zack and you know it. I came for you in the woods. And when we went for Tinga..."

„You were too late there, too,"Zack interrupted, his tone calm and yet razor sharp.

For a moment, Max was speechless. Remembering Tinga and Brin and Ben... she bit her lip.

Zack used the moment to approach her, eyes ablaze with anger. „Look at yourself, X5-452. Your CO is spelling it out for you. You're a liability to us. Your head is not in the game. Once you get your emotional chaos straightened out, you're welcome to join us. Until then, you're better off exorcising your ghosts."

For a few moments, silence swelled between them. Then Zack's features softened as he added quietly, „Max, you're on the wanted list in Seattle, you said so yourself."

„Good to know I'm wanted somewhere."

She almost left, slamming the partially unhinged door behind her. But she didn't. She stopped with the door knob in her hand, gripping it tightly. There was too much at stake here.

Instead, Max pursed her lips and brushed past the fuming Zack only to settle comfortably in the purple recliner.

At one time she would have fought her brother to set him straight. Two years ago she **had** fought him. Why was she backing down now, she wondered, stubbornly locking eyes with Zack.

Zack frowned, surprised by her sudden move to take his place in the recliner.

To Max, the staredown that followed seemed almost childish. Was Zack really just the same pain in the ass brother, or would he do anything to keep her out of Seattle, at least for a while?

_Know your enemy_, Lydecker had kept saying. Zack kept his features carefully in check, but Max had no trouble noticing the twitching muscle in his jaw or the slightly curved up lips. She decided he'd say whatever he needed to say to keep her safe. That made things so much easier for her.

Oh, how she wished to be able to talk and plan with someone who listened to her instead of labeling her as emotional and grounding her to safety like a small kid. And he had called her by her designation, too. Damn, it hurt. Too bad that trying to kick Zack's ass in their small quarters wouldn't be of any help.

She was no fool, she knew exactly what the chances were for the transgenics. Hounded by White, loathed by the population, scattered in all winds, there was no way for more than a few very lucky ones to survive. And even then, they'd be repeating what she and her siblings had gone through. The same mistake, over again, until someone, somewhere, at some time, would recognize them for what they were, unceremoniously ending it.

That was unacceptable. The transgenics needed to get organized and fight back. At the same time, she needed to find Bling, meet Sung and pay back the sons of bitches who... She sighed. All of it needed to be done preferably before she met her final fate at the hands of White, Lydecker or an angry mob. But Zack couldn't know that. Obviously he had remembered much more than she had initially thought. Enough to want to leave her out, in San Francisco of all places, while Seattle fought for its freedom. Right...

Feeling she had cooled off enough to avoid getting in a physical fight, Max wiggled in the recliner, leaned back more and made herself comfortable, a provocative half-smile on her lips. The image of a seething Zack looming high over her did not disturb her anymore.

"Max..." he attempted to entreat her, frustration visible on his face.

"Yes, Zack?" Zack's surprise at her attitude was evident. He hadn't expected her to be so calm and was probably wondering what she was scheming. She had kicked Zack's ass before, she would do it again if she had to. Whatever it took for him to understand that nobody ever told her what to do. Not since they had fled Manticore. Max wondered if she had to spell it out for him again.

That was not the case, however. Zack took one look at her faintly mocking smile and came up with an offer.

„Give me 48 hours to scout ahead and I'll call for you to come, Max. In the meantime, you can look up some journalists, see if they're willing to bring our story from our point of view."

"It would be much easier for me to reach journalists in Seattle. I have contacts there." Max thought of Sebastian, whom she hadn't heard from in over a year. Logan's contacts, she mentally added. But there was no need to provoke Zack now.

Zack nodded toward the paper at Max' feet. "I doubt that journalists in Seattle are very talkative right now, with all the murders. They're probably hiding anyway. Plus, we need to get support from all over the country, not just in Seattle. What good will Seattle journalists do us if it comes to a showdown? We need to make people aware of what's happening."

Max sighed. Eyes Only could have come in handy right now. But Zack was right. Seattle could remain isolated, locked down, at any time. They needed help all over the country.

"I could start with the San Francisco newspapers in the morning," Max nodded. "But don't think you got rid of me. Once that is taken care of, I'll follow you so we can enter Seattle together."

"Let me call you first, Max. I need to get a safe place and assess the situation."

Max frowned. Damn him, she hated it when he was right. Still, she couldn't help but worry.

"I'll give you a list of contacts and potential safe houses. I hate to refer you to Alec, but he's probably well informed. You'll also need to find Matt Sung, he's a cop who can help." What Zack didn't know, wouldn't get him riled up. Once he was in Seattle, there was no way for him to keep her away.

Zack nodded curtly, a faint surprise in his eyes. Once they had settled down to talk, it had been almost painless and the plan had taken shape quite nicely. Max wondered if he still thought of her as immature and emotional.

The detached, cold blooded soldier in him had recognized her turmoil and asked her to regroup. Then why was she feeling the slightest twinge of regret that she hadn't kicked his ass?


End file.
